


To Serve and Protect

by Athena_EasternSkies



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Blackmail using a child, Blow Jobs, Bottom Leon S. Kennedy, Cock & Ball Torture, Crying, Edging, Electrocution, Eventual Chris/Leon, Forced Sex, Hurt Leon S. Kennedy, Kidnapping, Leon is a painslut, M/M, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athena_EasternSkies/pseuds/Athena_EasternSkies
Summary: After Leon, Sherry, and Claire escape Racoon City, Claire leaves to find her brother while Leon and Sherry are captured by government agents under Derek C. Simmons. Leon would do anything to protect Sherry, even work for the evil men who have captured him. Simmons however has far more sinister plans for the gorgeous young man. He hires Jack Krauser to teach Leon how to be a good little slave while Leon discovers embarrassing truths about all the things that turn him on.
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Chris Redfield, Leon S. Kennedy/Derek C. Simmons, Leon S. Kennedy/Jack Krauser
Comments: 52
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first RE story and the first I am posting here. The idea came to me after I finished playing RE2 remake and saw the three survivors walk away like a true family. I wondered what would happen if my favorite bad guy of the series forced Leon to be his pet under the threat of hurting Sherry. This will be multiple chapters and eventually have Claire and Chris in it. I'm playing fast and lose with canon BTW.

Derek C. Simmons looked at the computer screen in front of him. He observed the figure visible within the surveillance video feed. The man was achingly young, wearing a button down shirt and jeans on legs that made Simmons’ mouth water with their shapeliness. The kid was barefooted and tied to an upright metal bed, his blond hair understandably disheveled because he had been asleep when Simmons’ operatives stormed the motel room he and the little girl were staying at. The agents had taken both of them into custody, but not without a fight from the spirited young man. At first Simmons had only meant to capture the last survivors of the Racoon City massacre to ensure their absolute silence. But after witnessing how efficiently young Leon Kennedy had defended himself and his charge, injuring four of Simmon's men with bare hands and makeshift weapons around the room, Simmons had decided to study the rookie some more.

At the moment the young man was struggling where he was tied: a special observation room with video feed and facilities that Simmons could watch and operate from his study. Even as wounded and confused as this Leon was – Simmons had been told three agents had to hold him down and beat him repeatedly to subdue him – he was still fighting, pulling on his restraints, and trying to free himself from the metal frame. Interesting, Simmons thought. This rookie cop might have a lot of promise for getting a job at US-STRATCOM. Of course the department didn’t just let anyone into such a highly classified and strategic position. They had to be make sure of their resilience and loyalty, and their endurance, or so had Simmons made the dumb bureaucrats believe.

“You will not get away with this,” Leon yelled to the room. Smart kid, Simmons thought. He knows someone is watching. How he had spotted the hidden cameras and recording devices in the highly sophisticated space was a question Simmons would like to ask him sometime, when he inevitably passed this test.

“Where is Sherry? What did you do to her, you bastards?” Leon raised his head and stared directly at the camera Simmons had mounted in the corner of the room, the one he was watching his captive from now. As soon as the crystal blue eyes met his, something inside Simmons stirred. There was such softness and vulnerability in those misty blue depths, as well as in the gentle curve of his cheeks and slightly open mouth, that Simmons got the idea to do more than just experiment on the boy.

“You could at least talk to me, you coward. Tell me what you want,” Leon said.

Simmons licked his lips. Oh the things he wanted to do to this one. He dreamed of the young rookie crying with his lips wrapped around Simmons’ cock. He dreamed of him begging for mercy, begging for more. He wanted him on his knees, looking up with those magnetic eyes full of fear and submission, asking to be allowed to breathe while warming his cock, to spread himself for him and whine and moan under the older man.

He wanted so much, but he was a patient man.

Reaching for a button on a nearby com, he spoke a quick command to the onsite operator, then sat back to enjoy the show.

There came a buzzing noise. Leon noticed it too as he suddenly became alert. But nothing had prepared the kid for when the frame he was tied to came alive with several volts of electricity that zapped through the young man’s limbs and made him scream like a wounded cat. Simmons smiled, almost resisting the urge to touch himself and make the experience sensual. This was just the beginning. There would be much more, all part of the test to ensure a potential recruit would not break under any form of torture or stress, as Simmons had framed it.

The electric current stopped and the young man slumped against the metal bed. His beautiful hair fell in his face while he panted and willed his body to stop shaking. Again Simmons had to admire the young man’s endurance as many before him had continued to cry and wail after the first shock. It was clear that the rookie was capable of if not tolerating a lot of pain, of suppressing his reaction to it.

Simmons would soon push that to its limits.

“You—sick fucks!” Leon gasped, “I survived worse than this. You'll have to do much worse.”

Simmons pressed the button a second time. “Again,” he said into the com. Another buzzing sound heralded the incoming shock and he delighted in seeing the panic in his captive’s eyes. When the electricity struck Leon sobbed, trying to keep himself upright and shaking with the multiple shocks that made his muscles contract. Simmons did touch himself this time, albeit over his pants, as he stared at that upturned face scrunch up in agony while the young rookie’s hands opened and closed in their restraints.

I am so hard, Simmons thought. He had to stop himself from zapping his gorgeous captive again so soon, watching as the blue eyes slowly opened in anguish, looking into space as if gathering courage to endure. What Simmons wouldn’t give for those gems to look at him that way – tortured and hurt and pleading for mercy as Simmons overwhelmed him with pleasure and pain.

For a while Leon didn’t move. He stared, trying to get his breathing under control. Simmons wondered how many rounds it would take before the young man started breaking like the others. He was torn on that. On one hand he longed to see the kid submit to the torture and become the perfect pet, the perfect weapon, on the other he admired the resilience the kid showed and didn’t want him to lose it. He was fascinated with the the way the young man was clearly hurting but was determined not to give up, not to give in despite not knowing what his captors wanted.

But he couldn’t fool Simmons, who was delighted by the innocent eyes that soon filled with tears, some of it spilling over onto the rookie’s face. Once Leon got his breath under control he said in a hushed, strangled voice, “Talk to me, bastard. What do you want? Where is this place? What have you done with Sherry?”

That voice. It was Simmons’ undoing. He couldn’t contain himself anymore. His cock was so hard it was pushing against his pants. Activating the com again, he gave the order, “Hit him for twenty seconds, then let him rest for thirty before doing it again. Do it for half an hour, record the session, and send it to me. One you're done him back to his cell and see to it if he needs medical attention and a change of clothes.”

He stood up and removed his wireless headphones. Time to retreat to his personal space to take care of his raging hard-on that was making him sweat worse than the subject of his infatuation. This was not the end of course. Simmons had plans for young Leon Kennedy, and he had learned a lot in this session about him, and the things that would make him bend and allow Simmons to play him like an old fiddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, the first chapter. Let me know what you think and if I should continue.


	2. Chapter 2

Leon lay on the cot in his cell, aching all over. He had been unconscious when they brought him in, and had found several bandages on his body when he woke up. The worst was the stiffness in his joints and muscles, as if he had ran a marathon and climbed mount Everest all on the same day. He could still hear the buzzing that came before the most unbearable pain he had experienced in his recent life.

He wished he knew where he was, or who his captors were. He guessed it was a division of the US government, judging by the uniforms the operatives wore who had captured him. In his mind, the reason for his captivity was the government was interested in a first hand account of what had happened in Racoon City. But if that were true then where was the interview, or even the interrogation. He had expected something like that, not being tied down and to tortured with electricity like a captive in a Nazi camp.

Most of all he worried about Sherry. He wished he knew where she was, certainly hoped she was safe and wasn’t subjected to the same treatment. Claire should have taken Sherry with her. That would have been the better decision. But Claire had tracked down his brother in Europe and Leon didn’t think it was wise to send a kid with her on that journey. He had a plan to leave Sherry with a nice couple he knew who ran a foster home, and ask them to help him track down other relatives of hers. He thought he had it all set up and organized before the night when everything crashed and burned around them.

Footsteps sounded outside the door and Leon tried to sit up. He couldn’t, not even to defend himself. His body wouldn’t obey him. The door opened and a woman wearing a white medical coat came in, carrying an inconspicuous bag. She knelt by him and Leon turned his head toward her and tried to make eye contact in hopes of extracting some answers from her.

“Where am I? Who is doing this to me?”

The woman ignored him. She took his temperature and listened to his heartbeat, then began to prepare a hypodermic. As she tapped the syringe to get the air out she said, “You need to rest. Mr. Simmons wants to talk to you, but it looks like you can barely walk.” She sanitized his arm and pushed the needle into his vein, injecting him with a yellow liquid that made his skin prickle just looking at it. He wondered if this was a treatment or another form of torture. Soon he got his answer as his head became heavy and the doctor’s image began to blur in front of his eyes. As he fought to keep his eyes open she said, “This will help you to rest and recover. Once you get your strength back they’ll come for you.” She began packing her bag. He tried to stop her from leaving. He needed to talk to her and understand what was going on. Who was this Simmons? Why had he kidnapped Leon and Sherry? Why did he torture Leon to near paralysis if he needed him to walk and talk? He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a garbled moan. The white blurry blob that hovered over him bent close and placed a hand on his chest, stopping his struggle to move. She said, “It’s in your best interest to sleep now. Simmons is an eccentric man. Meeting with him may not be that much easier than what you just went through.”

He couldn’t see her face but he could hear the sympathy in her voice as she rose to her feet and walked to the door. He wanted to get up and go after her, ask why she sounded so worried for him, but a snowstorm filled his vision and pushed him back to the cot before everything went dark again.

—— 

When he woke up for the second time it was as if nothing had happened. His pain was gone, as was the stiffness in his muscles, and the sting under the bandages. Most importantly he was no longer paralyzed, a fact he took full advantage of as he got up off the cot and began searching his prison cell for a way out. He was in the process of examining a crack in the wall opposite the door when said door opened and two heavily armed guards stepped inside. They wore helmets with shields so that Leon couldn’t see their faces, but the semi-automatic weapons they pointed at him spoke volumes so Leon stopped doing what he was doing and raised his hands.

They took him down a well-lit corridor toward an unknown destination. Leon didn’t bother to ask, feeling grateful they hadn’t shackled his wrists or put a blindfold over his eyes. He tried to memorize the path they walked, hoping he could use the knowledge in a possible escape. If he could knock out the lady doctor the next time she came to visit him and steal her key, maybe he could overpower one of the guards and ask where Sherry was.

It was a long shot but it was all he could think of.

They stopped in front of a door that looked incredibly ordinary compared to the other doors he had seen in the place – the one belonging to the room where they had tortured him was made of solid steel. This door was deep mahogany wood with an inlaid plaque that read “Derek C. Simmons, Director of Operations.” Memory sparked in Leon’s mind. Simmons was the name the doctor had mentioned, the guy who was supposed to provide Leon with a similar experience as his bout with an electrified bed.

Leon was led into the room, sat in a chair opposite a huge dark desk and left by himself as the guards disappeared.

That was when Leon met Derek C. Simmons for the first time, sitting behind the desk looking at him with hawk-like eyes. Little did Leon know the man would have an incredibly malicious and deep influence on his life very soon.

Simmons was not an intimidating guy in Leon’s eyes, at least not at first. To Leon he was a bureaucrat in a suit, relying on armed guards and torture devices to act tough and show his power. Leon even thought of overpowering him in the first fifteen minutes of the meeting, when Simmons kept asking him questions about Racoon City and his connection to the Umbrella Corporation. Leon chose not to answer, just to piss the guy off. He couldn’t believe this was the guy the doctor had warned him about, or the guy watching his torture from the camera mounted on the ceiling in that room. But if he truly was the asshole who had ignored Leon’s pleas and inquiries while zapping him for fun, then Leon had every right to piss on his questions before answering any of them.

It went on like that until Simmons rose from his chair and walked toward him. Leon realized the man wasn’t armed, which strengthened the temptation to attack him and take him hostage for an escape. It didn’t seem like much of a challenge. Leon had taken down much tougher opponents and of the undead kind no less. This guy was probably easy cakes in comparison.

Simmons stood in front of his desk and leaned against it while folding his arms over his chest. He looked at Leon from above his nose and Leon’s brain wondered why his body wouldn’t act, why he wouldn’t just jump the guy. Strangely something held him back, something in the guy’s demeanor filled with confidence that told Leon there was more to him than just an office and a suit. He had an ace up his sleeve and it was only a matter of time before he revealed it.

“I don’t care if you tell me nothing about Racoon City or Umbrella,” Simmons said, “I don’t even need you to tell me anything about the woman who escaped with you. I already know her name is Claire Redfield, and that she has a brother who was a member of S.T.A.R.S Alpha team.

Leon’s head rose at that. How did this guy know so much about Claire? If he knew her and her brother, what else did he know? And why did he bother interrogating Leon in the first place?

“You may think we’re holding you and the girl to get information from the two of you about the T-virus incident. The truth is the opposite. You are held because we don’t want you to tell anyone else what we already know.”

Prisoners! That’s what Leon and Sherry were, and what Claire would be if these guys got their hands on her. Leon felt a chill in his spine. But if keeping them silent was the goal, why keep them at all? Why hadn’t they already ended their lives which would definitely ensure their silence?

It was the one question Leon couldn’t keep himself from asking. “Why haven’t you killed us if the only thing you care about is to keep us from talking? Or—have you? Is—is Sherry alive?”

Simmons grinned. Leon was beginning to see the hints of the snake the man truly was, and the power he held. At that moment Simmons looked more dangerous than the Tyrant Leon had to escape from so many times at the Racoon City police station. Simmons didn’t have super strength or a massive weapon he could kill with, but he had something far more menacing, a sharp wit that had already allowed him to detect Leon’s biggest weakness.

“Sherry is safe,” Simmons said, grin widening, “Whether or not she stays that way though, is entirely up to you. You probably know she has no value to us and is more of a burden and liability than anything worth keeping. But I am interested in keeping her alive only, and only if you promise to cooperate with me. That means doing everything I ask, obeying my every command, and never questioning my authority. Is that understood?”

Leon stared up at the man. “You want me to work for you?”

“Not just that. I want you to accept that from this point on you completely and indisputably belong to me. You will be mine in every way imaginable, skill, strength, body, and soul. You have to do everything I tell you or else Sherry will suffer the consequences.”

Leon looked away, his brain failing to believe what his ears were hearing. “You’re blackmailing me with her life? You’re threatening her so I would obey you?” How could someone be so vile as to use a child’s safety and wellbeing to secure another person’s loyalty?

Simmons shrugged and began walking back to his chair. “If you want to put it that way, then yes. It’s because of me she’s not eliminated yet. I accepted her guardianship and agreed to provide for her upkeep and education, otherwise her life would have been forfeit for the sake of national security. I want to make sure however, that you pay your share in the deal as well, since you have such an obvious vested interest in her welfare. If I have to do all the work myself, pay all her bills, send her to school, keep her safe from Umbrella and other bad actors, the least you could do is to pay me back by serving me.”

At this point Simmons was behind the desk, sitting with his chin in hands and looking Leon straight in the eye. Leon noticed the glint in the man’s eyes and the crookedness of his grin and a shudder ran through him. It was more than obvious what Simmons meant by “serving him.” Clearly he meant more than working as a bodyguard or an agent the way his eyes roamed Leon’s face and body. If he had wanted Leon as a simple employee he wouldn’t need to dangle Sherry’s life over his head, or make his offer in a private office behind a closed door.

“What do you want?” Leon asked, barely able to pronounce the words.

“Smart boy!” Simmons said, and once again got up. This time he came to sit in the armchair opposite the one Leon was sitting on, and spread his legs wide. He said, “Come here!” without specifying what “here” really meant.

Leon hesitated before standing up and taking the two steps between him and the other chair. He stood waiting for the man’s next command, confused as to what was wanted of him.

Simmons raised an eyebrow and stared at Leon as if expecting the younger man to read his mind. When Leon didn’t do anything he said, “What are you waiting for? Get on your knees.”

Leon gaped. Was this guy serious? Get on his _knees_? Here, in this office, and with guards most likely standing outside the door? He remembered the doctor’s words. _Meeting with him will not be that much easier than what you just went through._ She knew. They all knew. This must be common practice here and the government either didn’t know about it, or didn’t care.

Simmons shook his head. “You clearly don’t care about the girl. Do you know how many things could happen to a ward of the state without a decent guardianship? How many of them run away and get lost in the underbelly of the society? If no responsible person takes care of them they could just disappear, you know? I’m sure that’s not something you want for young Sherry.” His eyebrow climbed just a bit higher, knowing he had his prey trapped.

Leon had lost. There was no argument he could make that would guarantee Sherry’s safety. Simmons had made it abundantly clear what he wanted and what he was willing to do to get it and Leon was at the end of his line. The only thing his refusal achieved was to delay the inevitable. Feeling sick to his stomach, he got down on his knees and looked at the older man for further instructions.

Simmons vaguely gestured to his crotch. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Get on with it.”

Leon leaned forward, his whole body revolting against this. His mind told him to refuse, to attach the bastard and beat him to the ground like he did with the men he had sent to capture him. But this was different. This was a case where Sherry’s life was out of his reach and if Leon so much as questioned Simmons’ authority over him she would be pay the price.

Carefully he reached up for the fly of the suit trousers the man was wearing. Simmons quickly grabbed his wrist and shook his head. “No, do it with your teeth.”

Seriously? Did this man expect Leon to know how to pull down a man’s trouser zippers with his teeth like a ten dollar back alley whore? He stared incredulously but Simmons’ eyes were cold and firm. He wasn’t joking at all.

Feeling nauseated, Leon leaned further toward the man’s crotch and grabbed the zipper with his teeth, pulling it slowly down and making sure his teeth didn’t lose their grip on it. It wasn’t easy since the way Simmons was sitting didn’t give Leon the benefit of gravity or his own weight and he had to jam his face deep into the man’s crotch in order to do it, which clearly was intentional.

Once the fly was open Leon noticed Simmons wasn’t wearing any underwear. The man had come prepared. He had anticipated Leon’s surrender and knowing that irritated Leon even more. He struggled to open the button on top of the man’s fly and as soon as he succeeded Simmons’ dick sprang out and hit Leon on the nose.

God, it was big. Leon hated that he felt impressed. For a guy who looked like a pencil pusher Simmons was surprisingly well endowed. Leon shyly opened his mouth and licked the side of the member. It tasted of clean flesh and was warm on his tongue. He heard Simmons command from above. “Open your mouth and take it in. Swallow it.”

There was no avoiding this. Taking a deep breath, Leon wrapped his lips around the large, intimidating organ and let it sink into his throat.

He gagged. He had never done this before, even if he obviously liked men. Ben, his bi-curious college roommate with whom Leon had his first experience always sucked him off and asked for a hand-job afterwards. Leon realized how inadequately prepared he was when Simmons’ cock hit the back of his throat and he went into a coughing fit. Leon choked, trying to dislodge the member from his mouth so he could breathe. Simmons held him there, grabbing the hair at the back of his head until Leon saw stars and started bucking. Finally, when Leon was certain his face had turned red, the man let him go. Leon fell on the ground in front of Simmons’ feet, staring as the man’s polished loafers, coughing and wheezing.

“It seems like you need much training. Get up.”

Leon’s tear-filled eyes looked up at Simmons pleadingly. Surely the man understood he couldn’t resume the blowjob if he had difficulty breathing. Or had he been a slave driver in his previous life?

A hand reached down and closed in his hair, pulling him up so harshly his scalp hurt. Leon immediately scrambled to his knees and fought to calm his frantic gasps. Simmons stared at him, then leaned back in the chair and put the hand back to his chin. He observed Leon like he was an untrained puppy.

“I don’t have time to teach you how to service me. I only have weekends and some short breaks in between briefings and other obligations. I need those times to unwind and get pleasure from you, not show you the best ways to suck a man off.” He seemed contemplate the issue for a second, then reach a decision. 

“I think Krauser could take on the job. He’s been where you are now and knows how to use both the carrot and the stick to break and reshape you. Expect a visit from him soon.”

He stood up and re-zipped his trousers, his erection still raging as before. His eyes stayed on Leon, a condescending look that made Leon want to shrivel and hide despite hating the guy so much. “Remember,” he said, “I expect peak performance from you next time we meet. Only that will guarantee Sherry the best possible care and accommodations instead of being handed over to a lab to be experimented on, or worse, thrown out of the house to fend for herself.”

Leon dropped his head. It wasn’t enough that he had to humiliate himself and submit to the man as his willing sex toy, now his performance was going to be evaluated too with Sherry’s happiness as the prize. Could his life get any shittier?

Guess it depended on who this Krauser was and what sort of nightmare _he_ was going to inflict on Leon.

Leon didn’t speak or get up as Simmons went back behind his desk and called for security to come and take him away. They escorted him back to his cell where he lay on the cot and moped over his life-goals changing from how to perform his best at RPD to how to best suck a dick. He wished the zombies would come and overrun this facility like they had done in Racoon City. At least that way he knew how to survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess Krauser is in this now. I have added him to the tags, wasn’t planning to do so, but he came and stared at me with his menacing eyes and wouldn’t go away until I agreed to let him play. Well this was AU anyways, so have Leon meet Krauser sooner than in canon just like he met Simmons sooner than what I’m guessing happened in the games. Who cares about canon anyways when it’s porn, right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krauser begins Leon's training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a gift to [locusdesperatus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/locusdesperatus/pseuds/locusdesperatus) who introduced me to the joys of painslut Leon.
> 
> Also I have no idea when Krauser got his scar or how built he is at this point in the series. Just roll with it, will ya?

Leon’s first impression of Jack Krauser was that he was a pro-wrestler in his free time. The man was easily over 6 feet tall and had a build that made body builders jealous. His slicked back blond hair and scar on the left side of his face added to his intimidation factor. In his darkest masturbation hours during his academy years Leon might have dreamed about this guy occasionally, but here, in the cold, clinical setting of a concrete prison and as a jailer who was supposed to whip Leon into shape as a submissive, Krauser was only an enemy in Leon’s eyes.

Perched on his cot and waiting, Leon eyed the man’s thick belt to see if he had any weapons. There was only a black riding crop that looked strangely at odds with the military getup the guy was wearing. Leon smiled inwardly. If he conjured all the best parts of his academy training and what he had learned in Racoon City, this guy was no problem for him, wrestler or not.

Krauser pulled a chair from the corner of Leon’s cell – the same chair the doctor used when she came to visit Leon – and sat down with his legs spread open. He stared at Leon for a moment, then said, “So you’re the rookie I’m supposed to train? Are you a boy or a girl?”

Leon felt his blood shoot to his ears. Was that supposed to be an insult? Did this guy fancy himself a school yard bully?

Krauser had turned his head, looking at something behind the chair. Leon saw it as his chance and launched himself at him. Putting all his energy into his leg muscles as he crashed into and toppled the chair. Krauser quickly turned back, confusion and amusement written all over his face. Up close his bone structure reminded Leon of a Norse god. He delighted in punching those sharp cheekbones, letting his fists fly and getting a few good hits in before his world turned upside down.

He didn’t even see what happened. One second he was on Krauser’s chest, hitting him with his fists, the next he was flipped onto his front, Krauser’s knee hard between his shoulder blades and his mouth close to Leon’s ear

“That was very stupid, Rookie. Very stupid,” Krauser said. He hoisted Leon up by his captured wrists and dragged him to the cot. Leon fought with all his might, but it was as if he was up against a bulldozer. Even the Tyrant hadn’t been this immovable, but then again, Leon hadn’t tried to take on the Tyrant with just his fists. Krauser was right. It _was_ a truly stupid move.

Krauser threw him belly first on the cot and tied his wrists behind his back with a piece of heavy duty zip tie. Leon kept struggling but as his hands were restrained effectively it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Let me go, you bastard! What’s your problem?” he yelled.

Horror seeped under his skin when his pants were pulled down, followed by his underwear. He feared the monster was planning to rape him then and there. Krauser was holding him down with one arm around his waist and with the other, he undid the black leather riding crop from his belt and raised it over his head. Leon braced himself, knowing what was going to happen. It wasn’t a big deal. He had had worse, like being thrown around by zombies and Tyrants, slashed by Lickers and tentacle monsters, or smashed through glass and metal by a mutated Birkin. This was play compared to that.

He was wrong. Nothing prepared him for the fire that exploded across his ass when Krauser landed the blow. He screamed, flailing his legs and torso to get away. Krauser easily subdued him. The bastard must have known a method for punishment that made a simple beating ten times worse. Either that or his sheer brute strength made it like no other beating Leon had experienced before.

The blows kept coming hard and fast. Leon wailed, no longer able to control his reaction to the absolute torture inflicted on his cheeks. He struggled through the first half of the whipping, and when it kept going longer than he expected, he gave up. He went limp in Krauser’s grasp and sobbed loudly as the man rained burning lashes onto his flesh. He was in so much panic he didn’t even think about counting the blows but he was sure there were more than a hundred thousand. For all he knew he had been laying here receiving hits from a sadistic trainer for hours.

When he was done Krauser let go of Leon’s body and cut open the zip tie around his wrists. Leon didn’t move. He couldn’t even lift a finger he was in so much pain. Hazily he heard Krauser tell him, “From now on that’ll be the consequence for acting out. You need to learn, Rookie, that while I’m here, I am your boss. You will obey me in everything and never, ever, attack or disobey me, understood?”

Leon sobbed into the mattress.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.” Krauser said.

“Yes…,” Leon said in a weak voice.

“Still not right.”

“Yes…sir!”

“Now that's better. Get up and come over here.”

Leon twitched. He couldn’t even imagine getting up, let alone fixing his pants and walking. Krauser grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and lifted him up so his face was next to Krauser’s. He growled, “What did I say about disobeying me?”

Leon hiccuped. He felt so pathetic but he couldn’t help it. His lower body hurt so bad.

“I’ll—I’ll try, just give me a minute,” he said with a whimper.

Krauser scoffed and threw him on the cot on his ass. Leon yelped and rolled to his side, crying into the mattress and fighting to catch his breath.

Krauser went back to the chair. He sat down the same way as before, legs spread and back ramrod strait. He looked at Leon and said, “Once you’re done crying pull your pants up and come here.”

There was no getting out of this. Leon feared that if he took too long the guy would come for him again. Still sniffing he sat up and carefully pulled his pants up. They didn’t catch on any welts. It didn’t seem like Krauser had broken skin despite how painful the whipping had been. The guy was a pro.

Leon limped toward the chair. As soon as he was close Krauser reached up and pulled him down. Leon went to his knees, keening as his tortured ass made contact with his heels. He bent over and trembled, his bangs hiding his face. Krauser grabbed his chin and lifted his face. He pulled a cloth from his pocket and gave it to Leon. “Here, clean up your face. I don’t want your snot on my crotch.”

On his crotch? Shit, so this was the training part. This man was going to teach Leon to suck cock under the threat of punishment. He eyed the man’s fatigues and wondered how this could go. It wasn’t like they had dummies in the room for Krauser to demonstrate on.

“Wait a second. Is that a bulge in your pants?” Krauser asked, one eyebrow raised.

Horrified Leon looked down and saw what Krauser meant. Apparently as soon as the fabric of Leon's underwear had touched his cock he had sprung a hard-on. Leon shivered. He hadn’t even known he had such strong masochistic tendencies but here it was, clear as day. He had become aroused from someone whipping his ass black and blue.

Krauser somehow seemed upset by that. Shaking his head he stayed Leon’s hands and reached into his breast pocked for something. At first Leon thought it was a condom and marveled at the guy’s consideration for his captive. But then Krauser unwrapped the package and Leon saw two rubber rings attached on one side.

“Go lie on the cot,” Krauser ordered and Leon obeyed. Krauser bent over him and opened Leon's fly, pulling Leon’s cock and balls out. Leon closed his eyes and pressed the side on his face into the mattress. He was so hard his cock felt like steel in Krouser’s grip. He gasped when Krauser’s hand began moving up and down his length, creating friction and mind-bending pleasure in Leon’s loins, making him arch up to get more of the stimulation.

But the process quickly changed. As soon as Krauser seemed satisfied with the size of Leon’s arousal he took the contraption he had earlier fished out of his pocket and put one of the rings around Leon’s dick. He then grabbed hold of Leon’s ballsack and pulled it through the other ring, effectively trapping his hard-on in the rings. Leon moaned. The rubber device was so tight it made the base of his genitals ache. He realized the real evil behind the tool a second later, when Krauser masturbated him some more and Leon felt the most intense pressure in his cock and balls since the start of this whole ordeal.

He whined, turning his blurry eyes to Krauser and begging – begging – with his eyes for release. It was too harsh to keep those rings on him when Leon was so close. Krauser ignored his plea and went back to the chair to sit down, beckoning Leon to come and kneel in front of him.

“That stays on until you get me off. The longer you take the longer you’ll suffer. I don’t think you’d like a permanent case of blue balls. I hear it’s quite dangerous.”

Leon stared at him. Was that a smile on the brute’s face? Was he making fun of Leon or simply enjoying his predicament? Leon let out another moan and turned on his stomach, biting the sheets and rubbing himself against them to no avail.

The only way out was to do what the man asked and hope that by the end of it Krauser would be kind enough to keep his word.

He crawled toward his tormentor, noting that Krauser had already pulled himself out and was massaging his cock. The man was big. His cock wasn’t as thick as Simmons’ but definite longer. Leon scoffed, berating himself for comparing his rapist’s dicks with each other. What had his life become?

Unlike Simmons who had leaned back in his seat to enjoy himself, Krauser was all focus, like this was an assignment and Leon was his student. Perhaps that part was true. Simmons had after all tasked Krauser with training Leon and to teach him how to suck his cock. Thankfully Krauser wasn't demanding Leon take him out with his teeth or mouth or anything silly as that.

Leon leaned forward and took the large member in his hands. It was indeed long and he had to use both hands to rub it.

“Lick the underside while you warm it in your fists,” Krauser instructed. It sounded like he was teaching Leon how to operate a device as opposed to how to pleasure Krauser’s own cock.

Leon followed the instructions, licking and sucking the bottom side of the organ while messaging the top. His own cock ached something fierce and he longed to touch it and relieve the pressure. Krauser had been clever, using that incentive on Leon to do this right. The sooner Krauser found his release the sooner Leon would find his too.

“Good! That’s good. Keep going. Now the tip. Put it in your mouth and suck,” Krauser continued. He was getting breathy, his voice wavering from stern and steady to a husky growl. Leon was doing it right and as absurd as that might be, he felt a measure of pride. Now if he could make the bastard shut up and come already they'd both be free.

“No, no, what are you doing? Not the teeth. Stop.” Krauser slapped his face lightly and pulled him off his cock. Leon stared in a daze, drool dripping from his mouth. Krauser moved his fist up and down on his dick while looking at Leon and saying, “You don’t eat a cock like a hotdog, Rookie. You have to shield your teeth with your lips and go down carefully. Here, come’re and I’ll show you. I’ll feed you my cock and you’ll cover your teeth while it goes down. Understood?”

Leon reeled back, defiance rearing inside him despite the need to get relief. The humiliation of the man ‘feeding’ him his cock was too much for him and he pulled his face away. Before he could get too far though a fist closed in the hair at the back of his head and pulled him forward. Krauser pushed Leon’s face toward his cock and hissed, “We are doing this one way or another. Before I leave today you’ll have swallowed my cock and drank my cum. Whether or not you get to come too is determined by how well you do. Now get to work.”

Leon panted. All he wanted was to be rid of Krauser and have this ordeal over with. Resisting was not the way to do that, he knew. Reluctantly he opened his mouth and covered his teeth with his lips, watching in horror as Krauser forced his dick into his mouth a couple of inches at a time.

It was as if it would never get to the end. The cock was so long that Leon choked on it several times before his lips finally touched the base. Krauser guided him all the way through, teaching him to relax his throat, to breath through his nose, and to use his tongue to move the flesh around in his mouth and keep it from triggering his gag reflex. Despite it all Leon choked a few times and had a few coughing fits before he was able to swallow Krauser whole.

That was the end of Krauser’s self-restraint. As soon as his dick was completely enveloped in Leon’s warm and wet mouth the man threw kindness to the wind and began fucking Leon’s mouth in earnest. Leon thrashed in panic, but Krauser kept his fist at the back of Leon’s head and pounded into him relentlessly, drilling his throat like his life depended on it. Leon’s life certainly depended on how soon Krauser would finish. The lack of oxygen and the blows to his larynx where making him quite dizzy.

At last Krauser came. He filled Leon’s throat with his ejaculation before pulling out and spraying his face and hair with the rest of it. Leon fell to the ground, coughing and wheezing, feeling the jizz go up his nose and down his throat. He choked, gasping and hacking until Krauser held him up and slapped him on the back to clear out his airways.

He was a mess, his face covered in cum, snot and tears. His dick was almost purple from the pressure of the cock ring. He had sweated through his shirt so much it felt like he had swam through a lake, and his breath was erratic and shallow. Krauser was surprisingly gentle with him after that. He wrapped Leon up in his arms and lifted him from the ground. Krauser carried him to the cot and laid him down, opening his pants and carefully removing the rings from his cock and ball. Leon keened as blood flooded back to his genitals. He had another coughing fit and Krauser helped him through it, petting his hair and talking sweet nothings into his ear. His hand that wasn’t carding Leon’s hair massaged Leon’s aching dick, moving up and down in slow, deep strokes that made Leon moan and whimper as his climax neared. He hit his peak with a broken scream as his vision went white and he spurted all over Krauser’s fist who worked him through his release, then wiped his hand on Leon’s pants. Leon gasped on the cot, eyes half-lidded as he watched Krauser stand up and collect his things to leave. The man looked every inch the way he did when he had entered the room, no hair out of place, no clothes in disarray. In comparison Leon was a wreck, wet and wounded and covered in cum and tears. His eyes and ass cheeks were swollen, as were his dick and balls. He couldn’t even breathe properly.

“Good first lesson, Rookie. You do have potential. I’ll send the guards in to clean you up, then let the boss know about your progress. See you tomorrow kid.”

Tomorrow. Going through the same thing. Leon didn’t think he could. He struggled to speak, raising his arm toward Krauser’s retreating back and watching as the man walked out of the room. Leon’s arm fell on the bed, useless and shaking. He turned and pushed his face into the mattress crying, overwhelmed by the feelings that coursed through him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing Krauser is so much fun. I think I'm going to dedicate a few more chapters to him teaching Leon how to be a good whore. Leon clearly has a thing for strong, burly men. He just needs to meet the right one. *cough* Chris *cough*!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krauser continues Leon's training in the art of being a good little cocksleeve. Leon has mixed feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure smut. I may have forgotten I had a plot here. It's just so much fun to write these two.

Leon bit into the thin pillow on his cot to stifle the cry that was fighting to escape him. He was on his stomach, handcuffed to a bar at the front of the cot, without his pants and his boxers. His legs were spread apart so Krauser – who stood over him with a menacing whip – could get to all the folds and creases of his ass and thighs. Krauser had made him count the lashes after the third day of their training. He also placed the cock ring much sooner now, namely as soon as Leon’s erection made itself known. It wasn’t enough for Krauser to stripe the poor man’s buttocks red and blue, he also had to make sure Leon didn’t come to soon.

“Please, ugh…ugh…please sir. No more. Hurts too much.” Leon wasn’t sure which part of his body he was talking about, his ass that felt like someone had placed a hot iron plate on it, or his erection that had become so stiff he had resorted to humping the mattress under him.

“You lost the count, Rookie. We’ll start from the last number,” Krauser said, raising the whip.

“No, no, no, no,” Leon stuttered, “Twenty six, sir. I counted. We’re at twenty six. Pl-please please. I can’t anymore.”

Krause let the whip fly through the air and hit Leon’s tender sit spot with such force the young man snapped his head up toward the ceiling and let out a choked cried. His ass came off the bed in reaction. Krauser’s words reached him through the fog of agony and arousal.

“You’ve bulged worse than before. I told you that’s dangerous. You need to learn to control yourself until the boss allows you to come. Of all the things we've practiced together this is the one thing you haven’t progressed in at all.”

Leon's eyes were swollen and his cheeks were red. He moaned, “Need it. Pleeeeease! It pinches so bad. Want to come. I’ll be good. I’ll do what I’m told. Just take it off, please.”

“Not yet Rookie. Not until we are finished. Where were we when you stopped counting? Nineteen?” He raised the whip again and hit Leon’s inner thigh this time. Leon howled, then began sobbing

Krauser continued the whipping until Leon counted to thirty. By then the young man was wailing like a toddler. This was also part of their routine. Leon would be a crying mess at the end of his punishment and Krauser would calm him down before removing the ring from his cock and balls and masturbating him to completion. Usually Leon’s orgasms would be explosive. Leon himself would gasp and choke as he came messily into Krauser’s hand and on the sheets. Krauser would cuddle him afterwards, then leave to call the cleanup crew and the medical staff .

Today however things happened differently. It was the fifth day Krauser was visiting him and after the whipping and the ejaculation he stayed seated on the cot next to Leon’s prone form and stroked his hair.

“You’ve come a long way, Rookie. Today’s blowjob was the best I’d seen from you, even with the teeth scrapping that earned you that punishment. You can also control yourself better. You held it in until I gave you permission to come. Remember that when you finally go to serve the boss. He doesn’t like you to get too hard when you’re pleasuring him. You must manage your arousal as well as your climax. He won’t give you the luxury of wearing a cock ring. You'll have to hold it in yourself.”

He continued to stroke Leon’s backside, rubbing the sting out of his buns as best as he could which wasn’t that helpful since Leon’s poor ass had been subjected to the cruelest of punishments five days in a row. Krauser ran his hand gently between the inflamed cheeks and began to rub his thumb over Leon’s yet untouched entrance.

“This hasn’t been used yet. It’s time we'll bring it into play, don’t you think?”

Leon raised his head and yipped, “N—no. Puleeze! Not today.”

Krauser stood up. Leon heard the sound of a briefcase opening. His nostrils picked up the scent of peppermint from the lube Krauser uncapped.

He began to panic. He had never been touched there before, not even by himself. He had fantasized about someday doing it with a boyfriend or a casual lover. He knew the pleasures that lay hidden in that secret spot near the prostate. But as far as going somewhere with those fantasies, he was still in the imagination stages.

Krauser sat on the cot again and put a hand on Leon’s back, pressing him down in a manner that Leon had long since understood as a warning. “Settle down Rookie, or I’ll give your ass another thrashing.”

Leon cried. “But, but, I’m sore. I’ve been good. Sucked you off good. Can’t we leave this for tomorrow?”

Krauser touched his other hand to Leon’s anus, fingers wet with lube. He started massaging the muscle and made ever decreasing circles in preparation for pushing in. He said, “Yes, you are a very good cocksucker, a very good one indeed. But the boss doesn’t want just a cocksucker. He wants to use you here. He wants his friends to use you here. And he doesn’t care if you’re hurt. In fact, if I recall from my time with him, he likes to make you hurt down there before he puts his cock in. He likes it when the rim is red and puffy and squeezed his length. He likes to hear you moan and beg.” He began pressing one finger in and out, making Leon gasp. The peppermint stung his sensitive flesh and made his senses come alive with new arousal. He was getting another hard-on fast, and without a cock ring to keep him in check he didn’t even know if he could stop himself from coming without permission.

Two fingers went in. Krauser mused while he scissored them. “Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin. So vulnerable and tight. You might bleed the first time. Gotta prepare you properly.”

He went back to the bag and rummaged some more. Leon turned his head and watched as Krauser brought back a box. He wondered what could be in it, wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Krauser put the box in front of Leon’s face. He opened it and Leon’s eyes bugged out. There were two rows on phallic shaped shafts in the box, all lined up by size. The smallest was a little thicker than Leon’s middle finger; the largest competed with the girth of a beer can. 

Leon pulled on his wrists, fighting to get away though he knew it was pointless. Krauser was in charge here. He would choose what happened to Leon’s ass. Leon could wiggle and fight and throw a tantrum as much as he wanted but in the end he would take anything Krauser chose to put inside his hole.

So he did as Krauser told him and settled down.

“Good boy,” Krauser said and removed his hand from Leon’s back. He moved his fingers over the dildos and chose one in the center of the smaller row. It was a little over an inch in diameter. Krauser lubed it and put the cold tip on the wrinkled flesh of Leon’s opening.

Leon pushed his face into the pillow and braced himself.

Krauser’s palm returned to the small of his back, but the touch was soothing rather than threatening. “Relax Rookie. It would hurt more if you clench. We’ll start with this smaller one and go up. You may cry, and you may even bleed. But you will take them, all that I pick for you, and it'll be all right. Trust me.”

Leon nodded and forced himself to relax, his legs falling flat on the mattress, thighs slightly more open. Krauser took the chance and pressed in.

It wasn’t easy and Leon fought not to tighten or pull away. It was a challenge to stay calm while something unfamiliar and hard was introduced to one of the softest, most sensitive parts of his body. When you had lost so much control of yourself that your body became a plaything for someone else you knew you were defeated.

When Krauser finally breached him Leon groaned. He pushed his face deeper into the pillow and clenched his hands into fists. Krauser had reverted to his clinical professionalism and was penetrating Leon’s hole carefully and effectively like performing a surgery. He pushed the toy halfway in before he met resistance, then he pulled it out and pushed it back a little more forcefully. Leon gave a tiny yelp but the barrier gave way and the dildo slid into him all the way.

He had never felt so full in his life before, or so stretched. If he were to describe the feeling it was like that moment before taking a big dump. It was very odd especially when Krauser began to move the toy in and out in a slow pace that made something inside Leon spark with electricity. He let out an aborted cry and his thighs and legs began to shake. Krauser brought his mouth close to Leon’s ear and said, “Remember Rookie, no coming without permission. I’m intentionally not putting the ring on to see how well you can behave. Don’t disappoint me.”

Krauser fucked Leon with the smaller dildo for about five minutes before he completely removed it. Leon felt both relieved and too empty. Not being able to come had resulted in a mayhem of sensations in his lower regions. Before he could decide if he liked it, or resented it, another toy was introduced to his entrance, almost 1.5 times bigger than the previous one. He trembled as it went in, and as Krauser pressed it relentlessly into his vulnerable passage before it was all the way inside Leon’s body.

“You’re responding well Rookie. Only half-hard now. Remember to control yourself. We still have ways to go before seeing how comfortable you are taking my dick.”

His dick! Leon’s thoughts short circuited with flashbacks of the breadth and especially the length of the monster between Krauser’s thighs, the one Leon had had to swallow for the past five days. How on earth was he going to fit it inside him and not damage his guts? Krauser could kill him with that thing especially with how fast and rough he fucked.

Krauser moved on to the next size. As Leon got looser Krauser got bolder, pushing the plastic cocks harder and faster into him, using less lube and choosing bigger and bigger sizes. Leon was hard as a teenage boy in his first strip club visit, rolling his thighs left and right on the cot to avoid spilling his cum too soon. The special spot near his prostate sent spikes up and down his spine, making him want to push harder and faster into Krauser’s hand and the toys, to disrupt Krauser's methodical pace and create havoc in his horny hole.

Krauser noticed it. Like the patient teacher that he was he removed the last dildo and put it aside, next to the other ones he had used. He wiped his hands with a cloth and said to Leon, “It seems like you’re ready for the real thing, Rookie. Push your knees up and spread those legs wider. Anchor yourself on the cot and try not to fall off because I can’t guarantee to take it easy on you even though it is your first time.”

The words made Leon’s insides catch fire. Krauser was going to wreck him. He was going to punch Leon's insides so hard he’d turn his rectum inside out and all Leon could do was to hold on and try not to come. Hopefully Krauser would allow him release at some point before it all became too much and he lost control. He wasn’t sure it was possible not to spill all over himself off the bat in such a mind-blowing situation.

Krauser’s rock hard cock touched his rim. Leon moaned and opened his legs even wider, pressing his knees into the mattress in anticipation of what was to come. With a swift jab Krauser was inside him, sliding easily due to the amount of lube and preparation he had given to Leon’s hole. He went in, inch after inch until he was stopped, and Leon felt there was no more room for Krauser’s dick to go. Unfortunately for Leon, Krauser wasn’t even halfway in and without giving Leon any space to breathe or adjust, he began pushing his cock in, then fucking into Leon back and forth until he managed to breach the tight spot and burry himself deep in Leon’s poor, beaten ass. Leon gritted his teeth from the pain. It was as if someone was shoving a broomstick up his ass.

He opened his mouth to beg Krauser to take it slow, to give him some time and a little break. Except he realized he didn’t want Krauser to do that at all. He wanted Krauser to be rough, and brutal, and unforgiving. He wanted him to destroy Leon’s hole, pound him into the mattress so hard he left an imprint. He wanted Krauser to punish his guts with relentless pummeling and to leave him unfulfilled and in pain. He wanted it to hurt a lot.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh, m-more, more, more. Make it hurt good. Make it fast and hard. Make me your bitch. Ugh, ugh, hurts so good. I’m gonna, I’m gonna. Oh. God. I’m gonna come so hard.”

Krauser wrapped his arm around Leon’s waist and grabbed his aching dick. He began pumping him with the rhythm of his thrusts, making Leon hiccup and yelp repeatedly like a two-bit porn star on the set of a dirty film.

“You can come now, Rookie. Do it baby now. Let it go. You’re so good to me. So sweet and tight.”

“I’m gonna…, ugh, too much, too much. I’m gonna spill.”

“Do it baby. Do it now.”

Leon let the floodgates open and came so hard his body seized like it was hit by lightning. Krauser held him fast and came inside him at the same time. They didn’t move as they ejaculated, stayed stuck to each other like a piece, cocks pumping seed one inside and one into the mattress.

Afterwards they fell on each other boneless and covered in sweat. Krauser held Leon pressed to his chest and kissed his ear and his sweat-drenched hairline. He was still buried to the hilt inside the smaller man, each tiny movement causing a spike of pain to go up inside Leon’s body. When Krauser finally unstuck himself and slipped out of Leon, his captive let out a whimper and bit into the sheets. Now that he had come down from the heights, the aches and stings inside and outside his body were making themselves known. Leon breathed rapidly, and cried out when Krauser’s thumb gently touched his hole.

“You’ve teared a little here,” Krauser whispered huskily, “Nothing serious, just a little bit of blood. I’ll tell the doctor to take care of it.”

For the first time since they began their affair Krauser looked less than pristine. Usually it was Leon who was a wreck at the end of their sessions while Krauser appeared completely unruffled. Today Krauser seemed a bit mussed up. He pushed himself off the bed and stood on the spot as if not knowing what he was supposed to do. Then he began fixing his pants and turned to look at Leon, who was still on his stomach with his hands shackled to the cot. Leon noticed the flush in Krauser’s cheeks and the way his eyes seemed wider and shinier.

Krauser said, “I’ll let the boss know you are ready, Rookie. You’re gonna make me hell of proud. I must say, I didn’t expect you to be this…this….” He didn’t finish the sentence.

After uncuffing Leon, Krauser left without any other comments. Leon lay on the cot and waited for the cleaning crew and the doctor to come like all the other days. His thoughts swirled in all directions. Everything between his legs and inside his ass either ached or tingled. His whole body was in a state of elevated sensitivity. He prayed the staff took their time coming in so he could bask a little longer in the aftershocks of his climax and marinate in the masochistic euphoria of being thoroughly and mercilessly fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There'll be more Krauser/Leon in the future. Please let me know in the comments if you have any ideas of what else Krauser should teach poor Leon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The honeymoon phase is over and Leon is taken back to Simmons to prove he has learned to be a good boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this chapter is less consensual than the previous ones because...Simmons. Also the practices here are all products of my imagination. I can't vouch for any of it to be safe or sane, so kiddos, don't try this at home.

Leon walked through the hallways with Krauser behind him. Leon's hands were cuffed behind him with police issued handcuffs. If someone told him a month ago that he would be wearing these instead of carrying them he would have laughed.

The guards brought him a decent set of clothes this morning, so he no longer looked like an asylum patient. He was also given a full meal and a medical exam. All of this signaled one thing: that today was the day he would see Simmons and assessed for the results of his training.

Krauser didn’t seem thrilled. He came to Leon an hour after the medical exam and put the handcuffs on him. Without a word he escorted Leon out of the cell and toward the upper levels of the compound where Simmons’ office was. Leon remembered the path from last time when they had taken him to the showers, then to his cell. That time Simmons had been disappointed with his performance and had assigned Krauser to train him. Now Leon had had a week of training and was going to show the boss how good he had become. It all sounded like a bad comedy.

At the door Krauser paused and looked at him. Leon was waiting for him to knock on the door but Krauser kept delaying, going from one foot to another, and acting uncomfortable. When Leon started to wonder if they would spend the whole day by the door Krauser finally said, “Rookie, I want you to know that I did everything I could for you to be prepared for this.”

Leon almost said ‘Well thank you for beating my ass every day so I would be ready for the real abuse,’ but the look he saw on Krauser’s face stopped him. It was as if the man was sad, like he wished he didn’t have to send his student away.

Krauser said, “He’s a man with atypical desires. He’s not easy to please, but I want you to try. For your own sake, and mine.”

Leon frowned. Would Krauser get in trouble if Leon didn’t perform well? How was Leon supposed to know how to satisfy Simmons when he didn’t even know what the man wanted?

They entered the office and Leon felt like he was having a Déjà vu. Simmons sat at the desk and, just like last time, he stood up and walked around it to stand in front of the desk with his arms locked over his chest.

Krauser released the handcuffs from Leon and put them on his belt. He looked at Simmons and said, “Here he is, sir.”

Simmons’ eyes were on Leon only. “Thank you Jack,” he said to Krauser. Apparently that was dismissal since Krauser gave a short nod and left the room.

Simmons smiled and looked Leon up and down like a predator. “Here we are again, Mr. Kennedy. I’d like to know if you had a good time with Jack. Did he teach you everything you needed to learn?”

Leon gritted his teeth. Seeing the man again reminded him of why he was in this position instead of out there living his life, how his freedom and dignity was taken from him so that this man could get sexual gratification.

“I had fun, thank you,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could pack into five words.

Simmons nodded and came close. He stood in front of Leon and said, “Very well, get on your knees.”

Defiance roared inside Leon. Despite his time with Krauser being under duress, he had enjoyed some of the training and play they did together. Because of the care Krauser showed him the punishments didn’t affect him the same way Simmons actions did. In Leon’s mind most of it was roleplay and it helped that in the process he had experienced some of the most mind blowing pleasure of his life.

There was no pleasure here. This man didn’t care for him. The only thing Simmons cared about was his own satisfaction and how Leon would give it to him.

Against his better judgment, and despite Krauser’s warning, Leon refused to follow Simmons command.

“Didn’t you hear me boy? I said get on your knees,” Simmons said with a little more heat to his voice. Leon gave a smirk and folded his arms over his chest, mimicking Simmons’ earlier posture and putting his defiance on full display.

Simmons shook his head like a disappointed father. He went back to his desk and sat down, opening a drawer and retrieving a stack of papers. Leon couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What are those?”

Simmons said without looking up, “Oh, these? They're Sherry’s application for a prep school I was planning to send her to. I guess she doesn’t need it anymore. My wife and I will homeschool her in our spare time.”

In other words Sherry would be a prisoner in their home and never get to see other kids. A scream formed in the back of Leon’s throat and he had to stop himself from reacting to Simmons. Instead he said, “But you will send her if I get on my knees, right?”

Simmons looked up. “I don’t care for your attitude, young man. It’ll take a lot more than that to reverse my decision to shred these papers.”

Leon imagined Sherry alone in Simmons’ house. She had lost both her parents, been through unspeakable trauma, and was now essentially a hostage of the United States government. They might even run experiments on her. The only thing that could bring her a semblance of happiness was the chance to meet people outside the circle of her captors and whether or not she got that depended entirely on Leon.

Balling his hands into fists Leon went down to his knees and stared at the ground. From his vantage point he could see the tips of Simmons’ polished shoes under the table. He heard the man say, “That’s a start. Behave for the next hour or I won't let Sherry ever leave the house.”

Leon closed his eyes and said, “Please! Leave her be. I’ll do anything you say.”

Simmons stood up. “Fine, apologize for your earlier behavior.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t disobey anymore.”

Simmons came to stand in front of him. He pulled his dick out of his pants and held it in front of Leon's face. “Suck!” he ordered.

Leon stared at the member. It was as thick and veiny as he remembered. Even with his practice with Krauser Simmons’ dick seemed too large for his mouth. He did his best, sticking his tongue out and licking the underside like Krauser had taught him. He wiggled his tongue as he went down the length and felt Simmons shiver with pleasure. The cock became larger and rose until it stood like a flagpole in front of Leon.

“Good, good,” Simmons said, “Now open that pretty mouth of yours and take it.”

Leon swallowed his disgust and did just that. He put his lips over his teeth and pushed his mouth over Simmons’ cock like Krauser had taught him. Despite his control Simmons couldn’t suppress a small moan when his cock was enveloped by Leon’s warm, moist mouth. He sucked in a deep breath and dug his hands in Leon’s hair, clearly resisting the urge to force Leon onto his cock. Leon swallowed slowly, moving his tongue around the girth and his mouth closer to Simmon’s pubes as he let the member slide down. Just as the tip reached his throat he paused and took a deep breath, trapping air inside his lungs for the next part where the cock would block his air passage. He had enough practice to suppress his gag reflex but if he ran out of air he wouldn’t be able to continue.

Simmons groaned when the inhale caused Leon’s throat to vibrate. His hands tightened in Leon’s hair and again he stopped himself from directing the action. Leon gulped a couple of times, letting the flow of saliva take the flesh deeper into his throat, then began to move.

When he pulled back a little, the head of Simmon’s cock scrapped against the roof of his passage. Simmons lost it. With a cry he pushed Leon back onto his cock and fucked his mouth a couple of times before he let go and took a hold of himself. Leon smoothly transitioned the motion into a glide and handled the cock with his tongue until it was sawing in and out of his mouth at a fast pace. He used the breaks between the forward and backward motion to breathe and brought the tornado motion of his tongue back into the mix, making Simmon gasp and moan.

As much as the older man tried to hold back he became helpless when Leon finally applied his ultimate technique, combining the to and fro, and the twirling of his tongue, with the deep suction of his throat. It was only a few seconds after that Simmons completely lost control and came hard inside Leon’s mouth. Leon sucked in all of it, swallowing as fast as he could so that nothing could spill from his mouth. At least none of it had gone up his nose. Thank God for small favors.

Simmons panted, his hands massaging Leon’s scalp like Leon was a good dog. Gradually he removed his hands from Leon’s head and fastened his pants, breathing deeply in and out. Leon remained on his knees, his hands on his thighs and his eyes on the ground. He felt exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to his cell and take a shower. Simmons had ejaculated a lot down his throat. Maybe he should try to throw up too.

“What’s this? You didn’t even get hard? Was I not good enough for you?” Simmons said, displeased.

The words took Leon off guard. Krauser had focused so much on holding back his pleasure that he hadn't considered the other possibility, that of Leon not getting aroused at all. Simmons however had noticed and seemingly taken offence.

Leon bit his lip and looked up. His sweat soaked hair was stuck to his face, making him wonder if it made him look like a prostitute twink all the more. Simmons towered over him with a frown that promised thunder and lightning. He was probably expecting an apology from Leon for not enjoying the forced, blackmail sex.

Simmons’ frown disappeared as a light went on behind his eyes. He said, “I see what’s happening here. Jack told me about your... unique preferences. Apparently you can’t get it up unless I make you writhe in pain first. Well, I certainly can do that.”

He grabbed Leon by his hair and pulled him off his knees. Leon cried out, wondering if he should tell Simmons this wasn’t the type of pain Krauser was talking about. Before he could say anything though Simmons threw him on the desk and pulled his hands above his head to handcuff them to the other side. He then stripped Leon’s pants and boxers off, as well as unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it aside, so that Leon was now lying completely naked and exposed in front of him.

He brought out another set of shackles, these ones larger and heavier than the handcuffs. He eyed Leon’s ankles and said, “Let’s take care of those legs, shall we? I want them wide open so you’d be completely at my mercy, ready for whatever torment I have in store for you.”

Despite hating the man the words went straight to Leon’s cock and, for the first time during the session, he felt a spike of pleasure in his groin. He forcefully tramped it down, not only because of what Krauser had instructed but also because he didn’t want to give Simmons the satisfaction of seeing him aroused. This was no mutual play and he was only allowing it because of Sherry. There was no way in hell Leon would admit that any of this gave him pleasure.

Simmons tied Leon’s ankles to the side of the desk. By now Leon knew this was no ordinary desk but one that was most likely custom made for Simmons’ play. Leon was hardly the first individual Simmons had tied up here, but once he got out he would make sure he was the last.

“That’s better,” Simmons said, “Look at you all open and ready. I’m going to have a great time teaching you what real pain tastes like.” 

He opened a drawer and pulled out an odd looking chainmail pouch attached to a thin chain. Leon was thinking about an NSA having a drawer full of sex toys when Simmons grabbed his ball sack and put it inside the pouch. He pulled it tight around the base so that Leon's balls were completely encased by the chainmail. Leon quickly realized the true evil of the contraption when Simmons pulled on the chain attached to the pouch and he felt tiny barbs on the inner lining of the chainmail prick his flesh. As Simmons tightened the pouch further the barbs began to pierce the skin of Leon's sensitive ball sack even more.

The sting was maddening, making Leon's toes curl and his cock rise, which Simmons noticed.

“There it is,” he said, flicking the tip of Leon’s cock and making it bounce, “and I haven’t even started yet. You’re definitely a slut for this. Just remember, no coming before I say so.”

He took the end of the long chain, hooked to the pouch between Leon’s spread legs, and pulled it toward the bottom of the desk. Leon’s ball sack got pulled away from his body and the barbs dug deeper into his skin, making Leon moan and shudder. Simmons ignored Leon’s protests and kept pulling until the skin of Leon’s ball sack started pocking out of the the chainmail. The barbs drew tiny bead of blood and Leon began panting heavily. Simmons stopped and tied the end of the chain somewhere under the desk.

Leon huffed like a woman in labor. He had never imagined something like this happening to his groin and while it was a unique experience that once again ignited that secret feeling inside him, he wasn’t able to fully sink into it because of how much he hated Simmons. The man clearly enjoyed playing with Leon’s body but it was through blackmail and that alone dampened Leon’s desire. That thought alone had the side benefit of making his erection deflate.

Simmons stepped back and watched his handiwork. He gave a grin that sent chills down Leon’s spine. This man’s sadistic impulses were wild and vicious, nothing like Krauser’s meticulous attention to detail. For the first time, Leon worried what Simmons was going to do. He didn’t have to worry for long as Simmons quickly began removing his belt and speaking in a breathless tone that belied his own arousal.

“I’m gonna make you feel it, boy. Make you cry and beg and twist and struggle. You’re going to get hurt so much down there the nurses would have to put cold compress between your legs and then you’ll come back to me and ask me for more because it would be the best hurt you'd feel in your life.”

Leon instantly became hard again. He twisted his body away from Simmons, trying to hide his erection. He didn’t get far as the chain attached to his ball pouch pulled tight and made the barbs sink into his skin even more. Tears came to his eyes as he lay still, open and exposed for Simmons to inflict any evil he liked to his poor body.

Simmons' grin turned into a moustache-twirling laughter as he raised the leather belt in his hand and brought it down fast on Leon’s already tormented balls. Leon jerked in surprise, a scream peeling itself out of his throat as pain exploded in his most sensitive region. Simmons laughed more, sounding like a complete lunatic as he beat Leon’s balls again, and again.

This was agony like Leon hadn’t experienced before. He couldn’t move, couldn’t turn, couldn’t even spasm without pulling on his poor, swollen balls. The only thing he could do was lay there and scream as blow after blow landed on his flesh, while his cock couldn’t decide whether to get hard or fall limp.

At last Simmons stopped. Leon’s breathing was interspersed with sobs and mumbled of, “Stop, stop, no more, please! No more!”

Simmons draped himself over Leon and put his mouth next to his ear. He said, “You’re exquisite, boy. In all my years I’ve never had anyone who responded so lively to my play. I think I will keep you. Put a cock cage on you and torment you every day until you go insane. Look at you. Even now you’re rubbing yourself against me like a bitch in heat.”

Horrified Leon realized what Simmons was talking about. Despite every little pull bringing pure agony he was rutting again Simmons. He turned his face away when Simmons tried to kiss him, while Simmons laughed at the futile show of resistance.

Simmons stood up and released the chain on Leon’s balls. He undid the pouch and slowly peeled it away from Leon’s ball sack, wiping the blood with a soft washcloth and saying, “You’re nicked here. I’ll tell the nurses to put some healing ointment on it.” He then undid his pants and pushed them down his thighs along with his underwear. He released his monster cock that was already red and weeping and grabbed Leon’s thighs with both hands to spread him more. When he reached for Leon’s balls to move them out of the way Leon cried out.

Simmons took out a bottle of lube from the drawer, slicked himself up, and added some to Leon’s hole. He leaned over Leon and braced himself against the desk, then pushed into Leon slowly and persistently.

Even with Simmons being so hung the pain was negligible compared to what Leon had gone through. He laid limp and let Simmons do what he wanted. When the older man started thrusting into him at a piston-like pace he arched his back and adjusted the angle so that each jab would hit him in the right spot near his prostate. He cried and moaned, both from pleasure and from despair that he had let this evil bastard play him so easily. His balls filled up and the ache was so bad his tears spilled from eyes. He just wanted it to end, this confusion between stimulation, torture, and disgust.

At last Simmons came. He pumped his seed deep inside Leon and at the same time grabbed Leon’s cock and massaged it so hard Leon came hard all over himself and the desk. He sobbed, loudly and messily, feeling hate bubble inside him and crash like the waves of his orgasm. He loathed himself for letting this happen to him, loathed Simmons for doing it, and loathed Krauser for training him so well he had responded so eagerly to torture.

Simmons stood up and fixed his underwear and pants. He unlocked the cuffs on Leon’s wrists and ankles and helped him off the desk. Leon’s knees gave way and he crumbled to the floor, lying on his side and weeping quietly. He heard Simmons pick up the phone and dial a number, then his authoritative voice speaking to someone on the other end of the line, “Send in a medical team and two guards. I want the prisoner escorted back to his cell and I want to talk to Krauser in private.”

Leon closed his eyes and let himself drift. He didn’t want to care. He had done his duty, protected Sherry as best as he could. No one cared that in the process he had made himself a bitch to Simmons’ whims, or that after this he probably would never see the outside again, never have a career or do anything that wasn't spreading his legs and taking it like a good little slut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Give me Cake, Please*
> 
> Since you can only leave one kudos per story, how about if you enjoyed this chapter you copy and paste this cake emoji (🍰) in a comment so that I'd know you liked what I put here. It will give me incentive to write more and also make me happy 😊.  
> Of course a longer comment would make my day 😁.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After months of the same, something changes.

“Breathe baby. Breathe. Sink into the feeling.”

Krauser’s voice. Krauser’s presence all around him. His hands on Leon’s nipples, pinching and pulling the tips, creating that delicious sensation of agony and pleasure. Then cold metal biting into flesh as Krauser put the clamps on the tips and screwed them tight. Two bright spikes of pain going straight to his groin, making his toes curl. The moan that escaped him was from the deepest part of his soul.

Krauser soothed him. “Yes, baby. Feel it. Become one with it. I wished you could see yourself, how beautiful, how flushed your skin is. You’d be mistaken for a bride if it wasn’t for that pole of yours standing tall. Let me take care of it. Let me make you feel like a god.”

Krauser’s warm fist around him. Grabbing his member and massaging it slowly. The sensation was indescribable, coupled with the throbbing of his nipples that synched with his heartbeat. God his nipples hurt. It was as if Krauser had put two burning coals on them. He could see himself on the cot in his cell, Krauser sitting on the edge, playing his body like an instrument. Today he said they would try nipple play since Leon had such a well-toned chest and pert nipples. He had used compression clamps with screws (according to Krauser’s love whispers since Leon couldn’t see them through the blindfold,) and tightened them to the max so just by feel Leon could imagine what his chest looked like. He could see the flame red nubs trapped by cruel steel being mercilessly tortured by Krauser’s fingers and mouth and that thought alone made him moan harder.

“Yeah, baby. That’s the reaction I want. Look at those nips. So pretty and red. You think you could take more? You think you could make it through five flicks each?”

Oh God. Krauser wanted to punish his nipples even more by flicking the tips. That sure would hurt a lot, which was exactly what Leon was made for. He never shied away from pain, never wanted anything less than the absolute extreme. So with his mouth dripping saliva and his face wet with tears he nodded his head.

“You will count them, baby? You’ll say the number outloud?”

Another nod. His cock was drooling too.

Electricity shot through his chest when Krauser’s nail snapped at the tip of his left nipple. He screamed and twisted himself, feeling Krauser’s hand on him, holding him down. “It’s ok baby. It’s ok. You can take it. Just don’t come before I tell you.”

“O-o-one!” Leon groaned. Four more on this one, then five on the right. Leon wondered if it was easier to misbehave and take the whip.

No, he would get through this. He wanted to make Krauser proud, to let him know he appreciated everything the other man had done for him. His training. His love. The way he made Leon come so hard he would be in bliss for hours after Krauser was gone. It was a delightful journey what the two of them had been through and Leon wouldn’t escape from anything Krauser brought to him because of how much he trusted the man.

“Ok, baby. Can we go on?”

Leon nodded. Krauser flicked his left nipple again and Leon sobbed “two.”

In the end Leon lost himself in the relentless, mind-numbing torture on the two small areas of his body, so much that he didn’t care that instead of five, they went up to fifteen. When Krauser finally ended the torture and released the clamps Leon both cried and ejaculated. His cum sprayed onto his face and mingled with his tears while Krauser lovingly licked and sucked on his nipples.

They ended the session as they always did, with Krauser pounding Leon into the mattress and Leon crying out for more. Once they finished and came down from their high, Krauser put his mouth next to Leon’s ear and whispered, “I do not want to let you go, baby. I want to be all yours, always, the one who gets you to this state. But I can’t keep you from Simmons and it drives me crazy. He is becoming more and more obsessed, so our time together might be short. Soon he may decide you don’t need any more training. He may decide you are good enough, which you are baby. God, you’re so good. But I’ll go insane if I can’t see you, if I can’t be with you. If I can’t feel your body close to me.”

He began kissing Leon’s back between his shoulder blades. The sweat on his chest mingled with Leon’s. Even though the aftercare was sweet, Leon couldn’t enjoy it anymore. He was devastated by what he had just heard. Krauser was the only bright spot in his miserable existence. He and Sherry were the only ones Leon cared for and if Simmons decided he no longer needed Krauser, if he thought Leon was good enough, Leon would never see Krauser again. He would only see Simmons and to him that was unbearable.

“Don’t worry baby. I have a plan. Even if I can’t do anything for you, I’ll find someone who can. I’m talking to people. I know you’re doing this for that girl. As much as I don’t want to lose you, I don’t want his filthy hands on you either. This body is my temple, and I’d be deprived of it sooner than I’d let that bastard run it to the ground.”

Leon gave a quiet sob. His hand crept up to run through Krauser’s short cropped hair, a thank you of sorts for being there for him. Krauser grabbed his wrist and kissed his fingers, promising he would save Leon over and over after each kiss.

\----

Simmons’ office. That damn desk. Was it used for anything other than fucking Leon?

Simmons wasn’t even using the desk today. He only held Leon against it while he jabbed his dick inside the young man like a piston. Simmons’ arms held Leon so tightly Leon’s chest hurt. They wrapped around his torso like a python, ready to devour him. He might have done it too with the way he was sucking and biting on Leon’s neck. This time Simmons had fitted him with a Gates of Hell cage that had a thick, hollow chrome sound in the middle. Leon had never shoved anything inside his penis hole, and he cried out when Simmons inserted the sound, knowing that, not only would his member be squeezed by the vicious rings of the cage, his cum would be trapped too. He would not get any release until Simmons decided he would.

He hated the hacking sounds he made every time Simmons’ dick punched his guts. It was embarrassing, like a whore’s cries or a dog’s whimpers. He may have enjoyed this if Simmons wasn’t blackmailing him and controlling every aspect of his pleasure. Krauser was a dominant too but Leon loved his way. He loved being possessed, manhandled and manipulated in sexual and adventurous ways by Krauser. Simmons however always found a way to make it hurtful and humiliating, messing with his erection and making a point, over and over, to let him know who was in control. It was this trapped, hopeless feeling that dampened Leon’s spirit despite his body’s ultimate bliss.

“I’m thinking of taking you home,” Simmons said into his ear during a particularly vicious series of thrusts. “Now that your training is done, there’s no reason to keep you here. I could chain you to my bed, feed you in a dog bowl, make you wear nothing but a plug all day. Or I could make you wear a maid’s outfit with the back open. Every day as I get home, you’d greet me with a tray of implements that you’d like me to use on you.” Simmons was getting off of his own fantasies. His thrusts were getting more desperate and his breathing more ragged.

“I’ll stick a dildo in you before I leave the house and I’ll make a game of it: see if you can keep it from slipping out while doing chores around the house. Build that muscle in your pussy. Or maybe I’ll hang some weights from your balls, stretch that sack and make ‘em swing all day to drive you insane.”

Simmons was making hacking noises too. They both were in the grip of ecstasy, gasping and grinding against each other. Leon needed to come so bad he felt like passing out. His cock strained against the cage, trying to break free and rise to its full length. He started moaning and hitting the cage against the side of the desk, adding a ‘plunk, plunk, plunk’ to the breathing and fucking noises. Simmons took pity on him and released the cage’s clasp, but he was too distracted to do anything more. Leon waited and when he realized Simmons was too wrapped up in his own pleasure to release him, freed one hand and quickly undid the rest of the cage. The rod inside his dick burned his channel as it came out. As soon as it did he lost control and came on the desk. That pushed Simmons over the edge and the older man slammed Leon front first into the desk and rode him like a bitch. It didn’t take him long to reach his release and pump his seed deep into Leon. Leon sobbed. This was another thing he hated, Simmons filling him up, marking him as his. The man wanted the world to know Leon belonged to him and no matter how much the young man tried to wash the scent afterwards it never worked. A part of him was always branded by Simmons. 

“You’re mine,” Simmons said, as if to confirm the thought. He was draped over Leon’s bent over body, hissing into his ear, “I won’t let anyone touch you from now on. You’ll be my slave, my personal toy, my trained whore. I’ll teach you more until all you’ll know is how to suck, and swallow, and take dick. It’ll be perfect.”

Leon placed his cheek on the desk and closed his eyes, letting his body go numb and cold.

\----

Claire sat back in the comfortable chair and sipped on her wine. It was after her phone call with Sherry. All seemed well with the young girl despite being where she was. She was allowed to go to school and have friends, she was given everything she needed to lead a normal life, and she was under the care of the best doctors. Claire had been worried about her after leaving for Europe. She knew Sherry was taken in by the government and was in the custody of a NSA called Simmons. Simmons, though an unpleasant guy, had allowed Claire to communicate with Sherry though. Taking full advantage of that privilege, Claire had made it a habit of calling Sherry once a week. She still felt responsible for the young girl and wanted to make sure Sherry was in good hands.

Claire was halfway through her wine when the phone rang again. She raised an eyebrow, wondering who it could be at this hour.

After she and Chris had finished the Veronica business in Antarctica, they had flown to London and stayed there for a while. Chris was in talks with Jill about a new BOW problem from the Umbrella Corporation. He spent most of his days collecting Intel, which left Claire free to roam the town and make plans for her return to the US. She had sent messages to both Leon and Sherry, and while Leon had been strangely silent, Sherry had become a constant long-distance companion to Claire.

No one beside Sherry and Simmons knew Claire’s new phone number, which made her curious who could be calling her.

She picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

A gruff voice at the other end said, “Ms. Redfield? My name is Jack. You don’t know me but I am a friend of your friend, Leon Kennedy.”

Claire pressed the phone tighter to her ear, “Leon? Is he ok? Is he in trouble?”

The man stayed quiet for a few seconds, then said, “He is, somewhat, in a tight spot. He needs help.”

“I’m willing to do anything. If it weren’t for him Sherry and I would have never made it out of Racoon City. Just tell me what to do.”

Another long pause, then, “Actually, it’s your brother I need to talk to. He is the one who can be most useful in this situation.”

“Chris?” Claire asked in confusion, “What can Chris do for Leon? They don’t even know each other.”

“And that’s why he is the person I need to talk to. I need someone my supervisor doesn’t know, who can pretend to be someone else.”

“Pretend to be someone else? What’s going on? Who is your supervisor?”

“Derek C. Simmons, the man currently holding Leon hostage.”

Claire put her wine glass down. She grabbed the phone with both hands and breathed into it, “The guy who adopted Sherry? Why would he kidnap Leon? Where are you getting this information from?”

Her voice must have shown her distrust because the man immediately sent her a text with two videos attached to it.

“Please watch these. It’s where they are holding him. The second video is a little graphic. It’s how they broke him and convinced him to work for them to keep Sherry safe. But the work— isn’t a conventional job. He’s being blackmailed by my boss.”

Claire saved the videos in a folder on her phone, then said, “If he is your boss then why are you doing this? What is your agenda?”

“I have no agenda. I just don’t like Leon to be hurt. Simmons is getting more unhinged by the day. He may make Leon disappear entirely by keeping him in a dungeon in his house.”

Claire spat out the wine she had just picked up. “Simmons has a dungeon in his house? You expect me to believe that?”

“Just watch the videos, and let Chris watch them too. Once you’re convinced, contact me at this number. The line is secure. I will explain to you and your brother what I need him to do, and together, we will hopefully get Leon out of that monster’s clutches.”

Claire was about to ask more questions when the line went dead. She sat back and stared at the video icons on her phone, wondering if she should watch them at this hour. Making her decision at last, she got up and went to the cabinet to get more wine, knowing she needed the extra alcohol to get through this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? A hint of plot in my porn? Well, this story always had an ending despite me being too wrapped up in Krauser's love making and Simmons' sadism. We need to get to savior Chris and this is how that ball gets rolling.
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and comments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krauser, Claire, and Chris hatch a plan to rescue Leon.

Derek C. Simmons looked at the spam email in his mailbox and cursed under his breath. He would have a talk with the tech department about their spam filters and why they didn’t filter the spam.

He opened the message, curiosity getting the better of him.

_Are you feeling unfulfilled as a sub, wanting more from your dominant that he/she cannot give? Or maybe you are a dominant who wants to experiment beyond the boundaries of ordinary play but is afraid of the unknown? No matter which side of the pleasure spectrum you are, and what your problem is, we have the solution._

Jesus, was it true that devices listened to your conversations and catered ads to your preferences? How would this spam generator know he was into S&M? No one outside his subs and a few, carefully selected employees, knew about his alternative lifestyle, yet here he was, looking at an ad for something called “The Extreme Experience.”

_Our experts know how to take your play to the next level. If you and your partner have hit a plateau, call us. Our male and female professionals would take your sub to places they could only imagine in dreams. If they have fantasies of getting kidnapped by bloodthirsty terrorists, and for you to swoop in and rescue them, we’ll provide. If they want to be stressed relentlessly and to the max, only to bask in the comfort of your arms later, we’ll provide that too._

Interesting. So this was a roleplay service for masters and slaves who wanted a third party to add extra spice to their scenes. Simmons wasn’t a fan of such a thing. He rarely included anyone else in his plays. Even when he allowed his friends to use his subs in his office, he didn’t participate himself, and only did it when he was tired of a partner and about to dump them. If the relationship was still hot and hopping, he wouldn’t want anyone near his favorite. After the training was over, as was the case with his most recent acquisition, the rookie Leon, the pet was all his. He even moved the young man to a special part of his mansion, not allowing him to see anyone outside security and service staff.

 _Our most popular package is the “bad guy” experiment, which provides you and your partner with a fantastic non-consensual roleplay. If you always wanted to try genuine hurt/comfort, but didn’t have the confidence, or didn’t want to be the one to inflict the pain, you can use the assistance of one of our experienced masters. They will play the villain to your hero._ _Whips, chains, electro, CBT, nipple torture, double penetration…, you name it, they’ll provide it in a safe, clean, and enjoyable environment. It will absolutely look real in the atmosphere they create, as if your sub is suffering through genuine torture. We’ll give you different scenarios as close to the real thing as you could imagine, and let you pick whichever suits your fantasies best._

To Simmons’ surprise a twinge of lust spiked inside his groin. He imagined Leon in a scenario. Hanging naked by his wrists from chains attached to a ceiling. Masked terrorists surrounding him. A monster with bulging muscles holding a glowing hot brand in one hand, pressing it to one of Leon’s butt cheeks, the smell of burning flesh, Leon’s call for help, repeating Simmons’ name name over and over, asking him to save him.

Leon being ravished by a beast of a man. Hot bodies undulating. A huge dick forcing its way into Leon’s tight passage. Leon crying. Begging. Telling Simmons he would be a good boy, that he loved him, that the punishment was too harsh and he would promise to always be good.

Simmons was getting hard. The email had completely destroyed his concentration. He was having absurd thoughts. Leon was a work in progress. The disgust on his face every time Simmons took him proved he wasn’t there yet. Even if he put Leon in a perilous situation that made him frightened and helpless, it was unlikely the boy would call for him.

Or would he?

He had Leon at home for over a week now. He had worked on gradually instilling obedience and submission into the fresh faced man. But there was something that was still missing. He wanted Leon to depend on him, to think of him every time he felt lonely or craved pleasure. He needed Leon to see Simmons as both his master and his protector, so he would be able to control the young man in every possible way.

Simmons shook his head. Damn the distraction. He had business meetings to attend to. He scrolled to the bottom of the email to find the delete button when his eyes caught the picture of one of the “experts” and his fingers froze. The guy wore leather pants and crisscrossed belts on his torso. He held a rifle for some reason that wasn't important. What was important however, was the fact that he looked exactly like the person in Simmons’ fantasies if he had come to life and taken a picture for this ad. Dark hair, handsome face, muscular chest, long, leather-clad legs. Simmons forgot what he wanted do and kept staring at – what was the name under the image? – Master C. Even a quick flash of him with Leon made Simmons hard. He let put the cursor hover over the Delete button and pressed it with a vengeance before slamming the laptop shut and leaving his office.

——

(Three way call between Claire, Krauser, and Chris.)

Krauser: “He has a weakness, despite acting like a tough guy all the time. He is very insecure. He knows Leon doesn’t love him and is there only because of Sherry. He knows if he drops the blackmail his sub would walk right out the door. He will jump at any opportunity to be the good cop to someone else’s bad cop and induce Stockholm Syndrome in his captive. That’s where you come in Chris. He will ask you to practice bad BDSM on Leon, so he could swoop in and play the savior, mess with Leon’s head.”

——

Simmons caught Sherry tinkering with the keypad to his personal wing of the house. The girl ran away as soon as she heard him, but not before Simmons saw her pressing random buttons on the keypad. He was going to have a talk with her governess. This girl who survived Racoon city had a rebellious streak in her that needed to be stomped. Simmons couldn’t lose her, and couldn’t afford her finding out what was behind that door.

He walked up to the keypad and keyed in his access code. The door opened with a click and Simmons walked in. These were his private quarters, where he brought his favorite toys and kept them hidden. Not even his soon-to-be-ex-wife knew the code, which probably contributed to the bitch asking for a divorce. Who did she think she was? He didn’t have to answer to anybody what he did with his free time, in his personal space. He dropped his briefcase and coat on a couch in the front lounge and made his way to the master bedroom, where his pet was waiting for him.

He opened the door and stood a moment admiring the view. His pet was restrained, as he always was when Simmons left the mansion. He was on his knees, bent over and hanging from a low swing attached to the ceiling. His elbows were wrapped in leather arm binders behind him. Straps attached to the arm binder threaded up to the sling and held Leon’s upper body suspended. His lower body was where the real fun was. His calves were tied to his thighs with belts, keeping his feet near his buttocks so his only point of contact with the floor was his knees. A belt around his waist, connected to the swing, carried most of his weight, but it wasn’t the only attachment that held him in place. No, the highlight of Simmons’ bondage was the thick anal hook he had inserted in Leon’s anus, which he then connected to a thick string and pulled up to the sling. This way some of Leon’s lower body weight pressed directly on the rim of his ass. It couldn’t be comfortable, having to partly partly from your asshole, which was probably why Leon’s legs were shaking. He had spread them wide, presumably to put more weight on the waist belt than the ass-hook. Unfortunately the more spread Leon’s legs were, the less his knees would support him. And that was the point of Simmons’ devious design, to have Leon constantly on his toes (or his ass and knees in this case,) trying to reduce the pain on one part of his body while putting more pressure on the other.

The rest of Leon’s bondage was more of less standard. Blindfold, ball gag, nipple clamps, and a cock cage. Leon was in a state of constant fidgeting when Simmons walked in. Simmons almost regretted taking him off the sling. He could sit there and watch for hours as his pet tried to find a comfortable position, sweat running down his armpits, plump lips getting chewed on as he tried to fight his muscle fatigue.

Unfortunately time was short. With his job taking up most of his day Simmons only had a limited time in the evenings and nights to enjoy his pet. He had to make the most of it, and right now, all he wanted to do was to fuck Leon’s mouth or ass.

Simmons eyed Leon’s hole. The rim was red and puffy. The constant strain of the hook had irritated the flesh of Leon’s sphincter. If he wanted to be merciful he would abstain from using his ass tonight. But he was not merciful, was he? His sadistic streak demanded he fucked that hole, and fucked it hard, so that Leon cried and moaned while his insides sang with pleasure. Even thinking about it made Simmons harder than he already was. He approached his bound, blindfolded slave, grabbed onto the sling, and bent down to whisper into Leon’s ear.

“Hello pet. It’s me. Did you have a good time?”

Leon jerked his head around like he wanted to see who it was. Simmons smirked and undid the sling, watching Leon fall to the ground on his front. The boy remained there, unable to do anything but wait for his master to release his body. Simmons quickly undid the restraints, the blindfold, and the ball-gag, but left the nipple clamps and cock-cage in place. He rolled Leon to his back and massaged his calves, noticing how his muscles cramped and shivered.

“Do you need to piss?”

Leon nodded and Simmons helped him to the bathroom. Once he was done Simmons took him back to the room and laid him on the bed, then stretched out next to the him and said, “Did you miss me? Did you miss my cock? Did you dream of me freeing your ass to pound into it, stuff it with my meat?”

Leon’s only answer was a moan, which intensified when Simmons moved his hand between his cheeks and probed at his hole.

“This feels hot. It will feel better around my cock. Don't you agree?”

He moved over Leon and folded Leon’s legs to his chest so his knees touched his shoulders. The exposed position revealed the state of Leon’s hole and Simmons almost hesitated putting more stress on the tortured opening. He didn’t want to permanently damage his pet. He took a salve from the bedside table and smeared a good amount on the inflamed flesh. He lubed his own cock generously and lined it up.

The breach elicited a loud cry from Leon, who then choked on his breath as he started to rapidly pant to deal with the pain. Simmons could see tears in the boy’s eyes and it spurred him on. He was torn between hurting the soft and pretty thing beneath him, or coddling him to earn his trust. It was a dilemma Simmons struggled with every day since he had blackmailed Leon to be his personal house pet.

Leon needed to be broken, but he also needed to trust Simmons, to see the older man as the one who could give him happiness and comfort. Simmons wanted Leon to rely on him, both emotionally, and sexually. Right now however, Leon wasn’t a willing participant in any shape or form. He was forced and no matter how much of a masochist he was, and how much he enjoyed pain-play, it remained only in the physical and sexual realms. Simmons knew for a fact he didn’t have the young man’s heart.

He began pounding into his boy in earnest. No matter how hard he went, Leon wouldn’t respond. After that initial scream Leon remained stubbornly silent, eyes closed and head turned, as if he was simply ‘enduring.' Simmons didn’t like it. He knew Leon could feel everything, both the pleasure and the pain. Being quiet was an act of rebellion on his part to piss Simmons off.

He doubled his effort, thrusting into the folded body so hard the bed springs began to shriek. Leon’s tears broke free and he pressed his head further into the mattress. He didn’t look at Simmons or make any sound, no matter how much Simmons stimulated him.

Angry at the lack of response Simmons ripped the cock-cage from Leon’s dick. It earned him a choked cry but it was hardly enough. Leon bit his lower lip as his cock slowly began to fill and Simmons could see him fight his erection, determined not to give Simmons the satisfaction of seeing him break. Simmons reached down and grabbed Leon’s cock, massaging it aggressively and bringing it to full mast. Leon tried to turn his entire body to get away but Simmons stopped him by bearing down on his body and forcing him to respond to the pleasure.

It finally worked. Leon cried out and his ejaculation sprayed in the space between his and Simmons’ bodies. Simmons came inside Leon. He pumped his mess deep into the younger man’s hole and collapsed on top of him, completely spent.

The anger remained, and despite having an explosive orgasmed just now, Simmons felt unfulfilled. Something wasn’t working. He had watched Krauser’s sessions with Leon and the young man always looked so eager and wanton. With Simmons, Leon clamped up, as if shutting all of his natural responses down until Simmons had to force them out of him. It wasn’t what he had dreamed of.

Simmons peeled himself off of Leon and turned away, looking at the mess on his own chest and stomach that was beginning to cool and itch.

“Go get yourself cleaned up,” he hissed at Leon without looking at him. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to sleep in this room even though he had spent every night since Leon’s transfer with him here. He had supposed that the young man was softened, that overtime he could turn him into a perfect pet, eating out of his hand and begging to be touched. Now he was facing a rock-hard shell, a closed off, shielded house slave who wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing him cry during his orgasms.

He went to the closet and put on a robe, listening to Leon shuffle to the bathroom and close the door. He decided to take his shower in the next room and also sleep there, to forget what he had come for and what it had turned into.

Something had to be done, Simmons thought as he picked up his shirt, pants, and shoes. Perhaps he should talk to Krauser, see if he had any suggestions. Then again, that would be inviting competition he didn’t need more of. Maybe if…, no that was too insane. He thought about it as his hands moved on their own to pull his cellphone out and open his email, checking the deleted folder for the darn spam email.

\------

(Three way call between Claire, Krauser, and Chris.)

Claire: “What do you suggest Chris should do if Simmons contacts him?”

Krauser: “Follow my instructions to a tee. This is not the first time Simmons would employ someone from outside to help him with an unwilling submissive. There was once this young woman… never mind, but I know the procedure. He will contact you and give you a false name. He will then tell you to go his house and call him there for further directions. He will let you in and lock every door you pass through behind you. All of his orders will be delivered through the call. You will not see his face since he is extremely careful and doesn’t want a scandal, which is exactly what we are going to threaten him with once this is over.”

Chris: “How are we going to do that?”

Krauser: “The outfit I’ll send you is equipped with a hidden camera that will record everything, plus a chip in your cellphone that will record your conversation with Simmons. All that is left is to capture his face to prove it is him.”

Claire: “And we do that how? I doubt he plans to appear and give a bow to the audience at the end of the show.”

Krauser: “No he doesn't. He would let Chris leave the house and then go to Leon. He would have to do it quickly though, to take advantage of rookie’s state of stress and help him through it like the loving, caring master he wants to be. That’s how we’ll get him. When Chris walks out of the mansion all the door are supposed to be locked behind him. That’s Simmons cue to go. But we will unlock them just in that moment. A guy I bribed in the staff is willing to do that for us for a short period of time.”

Chris: “You want me to go back? To a NSA’s private residence after my job is done and it can be considered trespassing if I’m caught?”

Krauser: “That is why I chose you and not any ordinary S&M professional off the scene. You have the chops to pull this off. The risk is nothing compared to what you’ve accomplished so far in your career.”

Chris: “But--,”

Claire, “Chris, please. We need to help Leon. It’s the only way. Please don’t bail on him.”

Chris (grumbling): “What about Sherry?”

Krauser: “I have a plan for her too. Don’t worry about it just yet. But Mr. Redfield, a very important note--,” Krauser gave a pause, to highlight the significance of the following words. “I have to remain invisible throughout the whole operation. You’ve never heard of me, nor have you talked to me. If this fails, the only hope Leon has for another rescue is my boss not knowing I was involved. Make sure it stays that way.”

Both Chris and Claire: “Yes.”

Krauser: “Excellent. I’ll send you the details and the equipment soon. Goodbye Mr.and Ms. Redfield, and good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it, a plan hatched.  
> Is it just me or did Simmons sound a little heartbroken in this chapter?  
> To see the inspiration for Chris' BDSM outfit, google "Warrior Chris Redfield," and tell me Simmons didn't have a reason to feel tempted. 😊  
> Comments very much appreciated.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris follows the script, with much difficulty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  *****Warning*****  
>  This chapter contains serious non-con. It's not dub-con, or pain-play, or a negotiated scene. It's straight up sexual assault. While it isn't too graphic, and Chris is horrified throughout - not to mention he does it to save Leon - he does act like a total rapist and Leon suffers for it. If that bothers you, please don't read. I'll give a summary at the end of the chapter (in spoiler tags) for those who may be triggered, but still want to follow the story.

Chris thought he was playing dress-up for a Halloween party. The outfit Krauser had sent him looked like a costume based on a villain from a video game. All the leather and spike reminded him of a human version of Bowser.

Since he couldn’t drive around town wearing the ridiculous getup, he was forced to park his van behind Simmons’ compound and change in the back. ‘The only thing I’m missing is a freaking machine gun,’ he thought, as he put on the crisscrossing bullet belts. He squeaked his way out of the van, and walked toward the hidden entrance, just as Simmons had instructed him.

The NSA had not given his real name in the email, calling himself Jim something instead. As if, after seeing his mansion, anyone would believe they were dealing with an ordinary Joe, or Jim, or whatever.

The email had instructions beyond the way to get to Leon’s room, and it were those that troubled Chris. Simmons wanted a full on assault on Leon, physical and sexual. He wanted Leon to be traumatized, beg for mercy, and call for help, so he could swoop in for the rescue and ingratiate himself into the young man’s fragile psyche as a protector and savior. The plan was so clumsy Chris doubted it would work, even if he didn't have ulterior motives. Leon couldn’t possibly believe an intruder would break through all of Simmons’ high-level security systems just to have his way with him.

Chris walked through a labyrinth of hallways and corridors until he reached the designated bedroom. He quickly put on his mask – a leather muzzle covering the bottom half of his face that was also equipped with a tiny camera. He tried the door, and wasn't surprised when it was locked. As per Simmons’ instructions, he was supposed to try to open the door multiple times before breaking it down, to make the whole thing look like a break-in. From that point on Chris would officially step into the role of a sexually predator. He needed all of his wits about him to endure the emotional burden of that and perform.

He knew Simmons had cameras in the room. He would most definitely be watching, which meant Chris had to follow the instructions to a T, or run the risk of Simmons getting suspicious and calling the whole thing off. Their plan would be dead in the water if they couldn’t catch Simmons’ face on camera in the act, which meant Chris could not veer off script prematurely no matter how unsavory things became.

‘You can do this. You can do this.’ He pep-talked himself as he fake-fought the door. ‘It’s just an act. You may not even have to use force if he doesn’t resist much. Just do it, get out, come back and catch the bastard’s face on film. It is a little bit of trauma and pain for the boy, but for the greater cause of giving him back his freedom.’

It was easier said than done, and Chris’ hands shook as he let go of the door handle and reached for a wrench in his belt pouch. What he was about to do went against every principle he had cultivated and fought for in his life. It was vile, shameful, and regardless of the outcome, there was no guarantee he or Leon would recover from it.

No way back now, he thought as he broke the lock on the door.

Leon was in a chair, reading a book. He looked up when the door opened and Chris walked in. Chris was taken aback by how young he looked. The comfy sweatshirt and sweatpants he wore made him look even more boyish and vulnerable, causing Chris to hesitate for a moment, despite his mind being on autopilot.

Leon quickly jumped out of the chair and took a step back. He stared at Chris wide eyed, more surprised than scared, and for the first time since seeing him, Chris noticed the corded muscles and strong build. Leon might be young and baby-faced, but he definitely was not a pushover.

Knowing his window of surprise was closing, Chris made his move. He rushed toward Leon and made a grab for him. Leon jumped further back, when his back hit the window and he couldn’t go any further. He yelled, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

There was no response for this question in the script so Chris ignored it and made another grab. Leon leaped past him and onto the bed, but he lost his balance and fell, which gave Chris the perfect opportunity to snatch him around the waist. Leon went down with a heavy oof while Chris quickly moved on top of him.

That proved to be a mistake. Leon was face up, and even though his wrists were restrained by Chris’ strong hands, he used his feet to deliver a strong kick to Chris’s crotch. Thankfully he missed and caught Chris in the thigh. Still, the intense pain that shot through Chris’ leg made him doubled over and let go of Leon, who Leon immediately moved away, running to the farthest corner of the room and assuming a fighting stance with his fists raised and his legs shoulder length apart.

He said, “Listen, I don’t know who you are, or who the fuck sent you, but you’re delusional if you think you can just molest me. I have tactical training and combat skills. Get the fuck out of here before I break your jaw.”

‘Shit!’ Chris thought, frustrated. You’d think a man who – according to Krauser and Claire –submitted himself, to daily unsolicited touches from a mere bureaucrat, would be easier to handle. But surprise, surprise, he wasn’t. Of course Claire had also told him about how Leon had fought hordes of the virus infected monsters in Racoon city, so maybe this was on Chris.

He didn’t want to go too far, but Leon was making things unnecessarily difficult. Chris had to move things along if he wanted to finish the mission. With a sigh that never made it to his lips, Chris unclasped the electric baton attached to his belt and pressed the button on the side. The stick hummed with vicious intent, and the promise of muscle-spasming pain. The perfect threat. 

Leon’s face paled. He must have known his disadvantage against a larger man wielding a crippling weapon. Chris wasn’t surprised when he gave up the pretense of fight and made a dive for the alarm button under the reading desk. Pressing that should have brought in the security in a matter of seconds, but in this case nothing happened, naturally, because Simmons had disabled it. The NSA had reassured Chris that all the ways the ‘little shit’ could escape were blocked. The only way was the door and when Leon made a bee line for it Chris was ready.

Leon seized up when the stun baton made contact with his body. He fell to the ground and hugged his knees as shocks went through him. Chris took the chance to grab him by the scruff of the neck and lift him from the floor. He turned toward the bed and saw the restraints Simmons had described in his instructions. Dragging Leon toward them he kept the stun baton at the ready in case the young man chose to struggle.

Leon did struggle. He struggled like a cat being dumped in a bath. Despite the electric shock he suffered he turned and aimed a punch at Chris’s chest, but it landed on one of Chris’ fake bullet trains and ended up hurting Leon more than Chris. Knowing the spitfire wouldn’t submit that easily Chris brought up the baton again and, this time, touched it to the side of Leon’s neck.

Leon flailed, almost falling out of Chris’ grip before Chris used his massive bulk to haul him onto the bed and cuff his hands to the headboard. He moved down to Leon’s kicking legs and used the chains and cuffs at the bottom of the bed to restrain him.

That effectively ended Leon’s attempts for escape. He lay dazed, looking at the ceiling as if he had problem concentrating, or breathing. In a voice, rough from the fight, he said, “Why are you doing this? Did _he_ send you? Is this his idea of ‘having fun?’ Or is it punishment for a rule I broke that he never bothered to tell me about?”

This was definitely not going the way Simmons intended. Under normal circumstances, Chris would have confessed to Leon what an idiot Simmons was and they would laugh it off. These, however, were not normal circumstances, so with a growl that hinted at sadistic intent, Chris pulled his tactical knife out of its sheath, and held it to Leon’s face, saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy. I’m not sent by anyone. I’m simply here to carve me out some delicious meat.”

Leon turned his face away, likely expecting his throat to be cut. He let out a surprised yelp when Chris used the knife to cut off his sweatshirt and sweatpants, his eyes going wide at the realization that this was something other than an assassination attempt.

Chuckling like a madman, Chris circled the knife against Leon’s stomach and said, “You thought you’re special, didn't you? You’re just a pet though, one that should be put in its place, and I’m here to do just that.”

Leon shivered and closed his eyes. From between clenched teeth, he said, “You are trespassing on private property. When the owner finds out, he will send security to arrest you.”

Chris laughed. “Are you sure about that, pretty boy? Why won’t you call for him then? Ask him to come and save you?”

Chris had hoped this would be the cue for Leon to cry out Simmons' name, if only for self-preservation. Leon however gritted his teeth harder and remained silent.

Feeling frustrated, Chris picked up the stun baton again.

“I heard you liked pain,” he said with a fake-growl in his voice, “Do you like it when I do this?” He pressed the tip of the baton to Leon’s belly and clicked the button.

Leon screamed. He jerked around in convulsion until Chris turned the stick off and removed it from Leon's body. “You can ask me to fuck you. Or you can beg your owner to save you. Either works.”

_Please, do it. Please call him. I don’t want to hurt you any more._

But stubborn asshole that he was, Leon stayed mute.

“Obstinate bitch,” Chris growled, and touched the stick to one of Leon’s nipples.

Leon arched off the bed. Chris was genuinely annoyed now so he let the electricity run a little longer until Leon began hyperventilating. He quickly shut the baton off and watched in horror as Leon writhed and choked. He should dial it back, he told himself. It didn't matter that he was desperate for the magic words, he had to make sure not to harm the young man.

“Ready to beg?” he asked Leon.

Leon raised his head and spat in Chris’ face.

The baton came alive.

Chris hated the next part. As much as he was trying to keep a professional front – much like when he killed the infected without thinking about the humans they once were – he couldn’t stay unaffected by the escalating level of suffering he was inflicting on Leon. This wasn’t even to obtain information. He couldn’t justify it with the “needs of many,” because all he was doing was servicing the sick needs of a sick man.

He touched the baton to Leon’s balls and pressed the button.

Leon shrieked. He jerked around in his restraints and howled like a wounded animal. Chris was not sure how much of it he could take but he kept the baton on Leon’s genitals until the screams died and Leon wet himself.

Chris stood up. He went into the bathroom and returned with a moist towel that he used to clean Leon up and sooth the pain in his sack. It wasn’t part of the instructions but Chris desperately needed a break, and not wanting to perform in a piss soaked bed was a good excuse to spend a couple of minutes comforting Leon.

Leon was crying now.

“Shhhhhhh!” Chris leaned in and whispered in Leon’s ear. “It's ok. I know it hurts. Thing is, it will hurt more if you don’t say what I want you to say.”

Leon whimpered, “What do you want?”

“I told you to beg.”

Leon shuddered in his bonds and said, “Fine! Please, stop.”

Chris shook his head. “That’s not what I want, baby-face. What I want to hear, is for you to beg me to fuck you.”

“Go to hell, you lunatic!”

Chris rose. He admired the young man’s tenacity, but he was also tired. Leon was clearly at his limits, yet he stubbornly refused to do what Chris asked. With a deep sigh Chris brought the baton down, this time touching it to the tip of Leon’s dick, still wet from the few piss drops that had leaked after Chris had wiped him. The wetness made the effect of the current much much worse.

Leon didn’t have a voice to scream. His reaction was a long, painful flinch. Chris clung to him, helped him through it while at the same time, he held the baton to the young man’s sensitive member longer than it was tolerable for any man. He knew Leon would never forgive him for this, no matter the excuse.

“I beg… beg you…to…to…rape me,” Leon said with what was left of his voice.

Not fuck me. Not have sex with me. Rape me. It was fair, and the truth. None of this was consensual. Leon wasn’t even hard.

Chris went on autopilot again. He released Leon’s legs from the shackles, bent him in half so his knees were under his armpits, and sank his cock, that he had earlier freed from his briefs, into him. Leon whined. He was clenching and in his haste to end this, Chris hadn’t taken any time to prepare him. Chris was beyond care at this point. This was so far from decent and consensual that no amount of preparation or care would have made a difference. The only on Chris' mind was to pound into Leon until he could pretend he had orgasmed, or Leon called for Simmons.

Leon still wasn't calling for Simmons.

Chris was drawing blood now. He needed to stop. Leon was hopeless cause. He looked like he was in shock, dead eyes staring at nothing while letting out a staccato of cries in tune with Chris’ thrusts.

Chris leaned over him again and, without a break in his relentless hammering, whispered at Leon, “Say master, please save me. Say it and this would be over.”

Leon’s expression of abject misery didn’t change. From somewhere deep within his throat he let out a wail that ended with what sounded like the word ‘Master.’ Then he continued hacking it up again and again with his cries.

That was enough. It had to be. Without wasting another second Chris withdrew, wiped the blood off his cock, and tucked himself in. Collecting his knife and baton and hooking them to his belt, he got off the bed, and took a moment to check on Leon. The young man looked delirious, still crying and whispering. There was one last bit of instruction Chris had to do before he could get out and he did it as emotionlessly and mechanically as possible.

“That’s right,” he told Leon, “Call for your master. Beg him to save you. He’s the only one who can, the only one who cares, and the only one who will make the pain go away.”

He looked around, as if to ask Simmons, “Are you satisfied?” before walking to the door and leaving the room. As promised, the doors were unlocked, and Chris could hear every one he passed through lock behind him. Once he was outside his phone rang. Simmons’ voice came over the line, “Good job. I just wired the money to your account. Leave the place now and forget everything that happened, understood?”

Chris couldn’t help himself. He grumbled, “He is bleeding, you might want to—,”

“It’s none of your concern. Your business here is done so get going.”

‘You’d wish,’ Chris thought. He was sure Simmons was on his way to Leon. Chris had a bit of time before Simmons was in the best position to be ambushed, so he went back to his van and changed his clothes. His hands kept shaking and his stomach was a storm. He would have preferred to take a shower before getting into his normal clothes but the leather and belts were chafing his skin and he couldn’t imagine remaining in that outfit for another minute. He would probably have to burn it, along with the knife and that accursed stun baton, once this was all over.

He called Krauser.

“It’s done," he said.

“Good. I let our guy know. Wait another five minutes, then go back inside. You remember the way to the bedroom, right?”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sadly, yes.”

“Excellent. Make sure you’re still wearing the mask since I know you’ve probably removed everything else.”

“You know me so well,” Chris said, sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll put the camera back on. Anything else?”

“No. Make it count.”

Chris hung up and waited five minutes, then put on the mask, grabbed his phone, and went back to the mansion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a big fan of H/C and, for me, to get the most out of my C I need some serious H before it. This was that.  
> For those of you who skipped the chapter, here is a rundown of what happened:
> 
> <\--Spoiler for chapter 8--> Chris impersonates an intruder, zaps Leon with a stun baton, then ties him to the bed and rapes him. This is all done under Simmons' orders, who plans to play the hero at the end and thereby - in his deluded mind - gain the trust and affection of the man he keeps as an unwilling slave. Chris is planning to expose Simmons by going along with his plan, recording it, and blackmailing him in exchange for Leon's freedom. <\--Spoiler End-->
> 
> Please don't forget to leave a comment. My tired fingers and, disturbed mind, would appreciate it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leon goes through a hell of an emotional ride. Chris too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sex in this chapter, but a lot of feels. Chris and Leon do their best to come to terms with what happened at Simmons' mansion.

There was a sound in the room, a ringing that wouldn’t stop (why wouldn’t it stop?) He was wet and cold and didn’t know why. Something, somewhere, had gone terribly wrong. He thought he saw a figure in the corner of his eye and he jumped, almost falling off the bed. For a second he thought the shadow had come back. The shadow was dangerous. The shadow would hurt him. He was so weak, so pathetic, and he was bested by something made up by his mind.

He couldn’t even describe what had happened. One second he was sitting in the armchair, reading his book, the next the shadow had appeared and dragged him to the bed, tortured and raped him. If he wasn’t a survivor of Racoon City and hadn’t seen with his own eyes the bizarre things that existed in the world, he would have thought it was all a dream, a nightmare he had to force himself to wake up from.

The door creaked open and Leon panicked, pulling himself up toward the headboard and trying to disappear into it. The shadow had come back, most likely to finish the job it had left unfinished.

The door closed and footsteps approached the bed. Leon’s mind was filled with the voice of Mr. Conley, his angry trainer from the academy years.

_Look at you, cowering like a dog. And you fancy yourself a policeman? You can’t even face someone your mind invented. And now it’s back to get you and you hide from it like a little boy._

A hand touched him and he lashed out, flailing his arms and his fists to score a punch before the hands grabbed his wrists and held them in a tight hold. A voice – familiar, both comforting and infuriating – said, “Easy. Easy boy. Let me look at you. Looks like he did a number on you.”

Leon didn’t want anyone to look at him. Leon wanted to curl up and weep. He was weak, dirty, an embarrassment to himself and everyone else. People allowed themselves to use his body every which way they wanted and he’d let them. Maybe it’d been better if he had died in Racoon City.

“Come on,” The hands pulled him away from the headboard. “The sheets are ruined. I’ll call the staff to change them. Why don’t we clean you up in the meantime?”

 _Yes, go with him. Let him “clean you_ _up.” Like an old man, or an invalid. Except you’re neither, are you? So what does that say about you?_

‘Shut up,’ he said to Mr. Conley in his head, ‘Leave me alone, you old coot. I never liked you anyway, and I’m tired.’ It was true. He was so tired. He hurt all over. There was no strength left in him to fight when the hands pulled him up and walked him to the bathroom. He leaned on the body next to him. Something about it felt nice and he almost succumbed to the temptation of falling into the man and letting him take him away.

The man made him sit in the tub, and turned the shower on. Warm water cascaded over Leon. It felt wonderful, calming. His heartbeat slowed and he became more aware of his surroundings. Suddenly he knew where he was and who was with him. Simmons. That bastard must have done this. Right now he was kneeling next to tub, lathering a wash cloth to wipe Leon’s body with it. Leon made to stand, spraying water everywhere, but he lost his balance and almost fell. Simmons, quick as a cat, caught him. He slowly lowered Leon into the tub, and said, “It’s ok. It’s ok. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Just sit for a second.”

No, Leon’s mind screamed. It wasn’t ok. He didn’t want Simmons to touch him. He didn’t want Simmons’ kindness, his gentle care that felt so good on his shivering skin, the warmness of this shower, and the fact that he could lean back and forget everything while Simmons softly washed his aching body.

This was wrong. This was bad, but Leon couldn’t bring himself to care. He was too exhausted, too far gone. All he wanted was to get clean and go to sleep.

Simmons turned off the shower and wrapped Leon in a towel. It felt so good Leon almost moaned. Simmons guided him back to the room but instead of the bed, he directed him toward the large couch near the window. They snuggled together there, Simmons sitting at one end while Leon lay on his side with his head in Simmons’ lap. Simmons ran his fingers through Leon’s hair, talking to him in a soothing voice, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here to protect you. I’m so upset you got hurt. It’s all because I wasn’t with you. If I were with you, it wouldn’t have happened. None of this would have happened if you had me at your side. But I’m here now. Isn’t this nice? Don’t you feel safe? Is there anything I can do for you to make it better?”

There was something, but Leon couldn’t remember. Besides, lying here, being cradled and pampered by his master, (his master? Was Simmons his master?) was the best. He couldn’t think of anything else. He only wanted to rest. Close his eyes and forget the last hour, pretend Simmons had been here the whole time, holding him, petting him, kissing the top of his head, his ear, his forehead, his cheek…

Kissing. Simmons was kissing him. He didn’t want that. Didn’t want to be kissed. Kisses were bad. They reminded him of the shadow, of what the shadow had done to him. What was Simmons doing? Why was he doing this?

The door opened. He heard Simmons’ voice, close to his ear that the man had just finished licking, “About time you showed up. Turn down the bed and take the sheets to the laundry. Put the Do-Not-Disturb sign on the door on your way out.”

“I’m not here to serve you, asshole.”

Leon’s eyes flew open. That voice! The deep tenor and the growl. It was the shadow. It had come back to hurt him. He was done for. The shadow was invincible. Not even Simmons could defeat it. The shadow would strike Leon with lightning, then tear him apart.

He rolled off the couch and onto the ground. He crawled away until his shoulder hit the window and he couldn’t go any farther.

Simmons’ voice thundered over his him from the top of the couch. “What are you doing here? Get lost or I’ll call security.”

The door clicked shut. Leon was trapped. He curled into himself. This was it.

“You won’t do such a thing. Not if you don’t want your dirty laundry to be aired to the world.”

“What are you talking about?” Simmons said. He sounded distressed, like something was stuck in his throat. Even he was scared of the shadow.

No, that’s it. Simmons didn’t sound scare. He sounded worried, concerned. He talked to the shadow as if he knew it, as if he had talked to it before, as if the shadow…was a real person.

Slowly Leon opened his eyes and looked at the figure at the door. What he saw baffled him.

It was the shadow alright. Or at least, it was half of the shadow. The face was the same, hidden halfway by a dark mask that covered his nose and mouth. The rest of him …wore a polo shirt and a pair of jeans. It was as if some ordinary dude had ripped off the face of Leon’s worst nightmare and put it on.

His words were even more puzzling.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about,” the masked man said to Simmons and then motioned toward Leon, “Blackmailing a man to be your unwilling sex slave? Ordering an assault on him? You think that will look good on your resume?”

Simmons scoffed and said, “Leon is my partner. We’re in a consensual relationship. You’re trespassing and as soon as I find out what your deal is, I’m going to call security and arrange for your arrest.”

The masked man growled. “You know exactly what my deal is. You paid me to come here and rape your ‘partner.’ I have it all recorded. Every word you said and everything I did based on your instructions, which I also have on file. You’re caught and the sooner you realize that, the sooner we could make a deal and move on.”

What was this person talking about? Leon sat up and grabbed the towel that was tangled in his legs, covering himself as best as he could. He wasn’t frightened anymore. Correction, he wasn’t ‘too’ frightened. But he was more curious than scared and he wanted to hear where this conversation was going.

Simmons seemed to transform too. Leon saw him put his elbows on his knees and say, in a tone that could only be described as frustrated, “So you found out, and now you want to blackmail me. Fine, name your price.”

The masked man rolled his eyes and said, “Of course that’s where your sick mind immediately jumps to, you scumbag. But that’s not what I want. I want you to let them go. Both of them, Leon and Sherry.”

Simmons yelled, “What the hell? Are you some kind of deluded vigilante? I was given the custody of Sherry Birkin by the Federal government, and Leon is here of his own will. If you think you can use a rape-fantasy session two consenting adults played together against me, you’re dumber than I thought.”

The masked man’ eyes turned to Leon. “Let’s see if that’s true. Mr. Kennedy, if you are indeed here on your own accord, and approve of this so called rape-fantasy, you can stay. Otherwise you are free to go.”

Leon froze, trapped between two men who had either hurt him, or threatened to hurt someone he cared about. What was the choice? He didn’t trust this man who, only half an hour ago, had used a stun baton on him. Simmons on the other hand, still had Sherry. As long as she was in his custody the threat existed, and Leon’s options were non-existent.

Simmons saw his hesitation and made a smacking sound with his mouth. He turned to the masked guy and said, “See? He doesn’t mind. You’re out of line and now, you’ll be out of here too.” He grabbed his cellphone from his pocket.

“No,” Leon said, his voice barely a croak. It still got the other two’s attention. He stood up, wrapped the towel around his waist, and told Simmons in a louder voice, “No, I don’t want to be here. I’m only here because you said you’d make Sherry’s life miserable if I didn’t. I never thought you’d go so far as to hire someone to torture me. That’s truly disgusting.”

Simmons’ eyes widened. The lines on his face immediately softened as he said, “Leon, dear. What’s gotten into you? I didn’t hire anyone. This man is an intruder and not in his right mind.”

Leon shook his head. “For so long, I thought I was helpless. I couldn’t find a way out, because I had no proof of what you were doing, and no witnesses who didn’t work for you. I don’t know where this man came from, but if what he says is true…if he really has recorded evidence of what you ordered him to do, then I’m done. I’ll report you. Even if you don’t release Sherry from your custody – which I will make sure you do as soon as I’m out of here – you won’t be able to touch her because I now have proof. I can take you to court for rape and blackmail.”

Simmons looked pale. It was the first time Leon had seen him lose his composure. He no longer looked the self-confident, domineering master he had made himself to be. He looked frightened.

Simmons stopped the loving act and said, “This man is lying, can’t you see that? He hasn’t recorded shit. Follow him and our deal will be off, and you know what that means.”

The stranger removed his mask and it caught Leon off guard when he finally saw his face. Something about it was familiar, something that caused a warm feeling inside his chest, like he knew this man, or knew something about him.

The man walked forward the couch and held the mask to Simmons. There was a tiny lens on its surface, a small camera. He then turned it inside out and showed the wireless transmitter attached to the lens. Simmons was clearly distressed now, but that wasn’t the end of it. The man next pulled out his cellphone and after a few clicks, brought up a video that showed the outside of Simmons’ mansion with Simmons’ voice in the background.

Simmons was giving the man directions on how to get to the room and what to do once he was there. Leon felt ill. He knew Simmons was a piece of slime but this was on a whole new level.

Simmons must have realized it too since he turned his eyes to Leon and said, “That…that’s not what it is. I never meant for him to hurt you. It was supposed to be…a game, to spice up our—,”

Leon punched him in the face. He took extreme satisfaction in hearing Simmons’ nose make a crunching sound under his knuckles. Simmons bent over and held his hand over his nose, trying to stem the blood flow. Leon looked up at the unknown man he no longer considered his enemy and said, “I want out of here, now. Promise me to help get Sherry out too. Only if I know she will be safe will I come with you.”

The man nodded. “We will do our best. Claire knows a family who are willing to foster her. This asshole will not dare touch her for as long as we have the evidence to end his career and put him behind bars.” He bent over the distressed NSA and said, “You heard that, sir. Just try to threaten Leon or Sherry again and you’ll be answering to a judge instead of me.”

Simmons’ answer was a moan and it was the most satisfying sound Leon had heard in a while. He walked to the room’s closet, pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants and quickly got dressed. He felt like he was flying, like he was walking on clouds, when he finally crossed the threshold and left the room that had been his gilded cage for so long.

————

Claire was delighted.

Meeting Leon again had been nostalgic and sweet. She had been on pins and needles until Chris had called. He told her which hotel they were going to. Of course Claire wanted to go right away, just to see they were both ok. She caught Leon just as he had come out of the shower and was drying his hair, but Chris was nowhere to be found.

Claire couldn’t wait. She threw herself in Leon’s arms and they hugged for a long time. Claire had so many questions, like how he had gotten himself into such a mess, and if Sherry was all right. Leon was quite open and chatty about some things, but completely shut off and cagey about others.

When she finally returned to hers and Chris’ apartment she was surprised to find Chris sitting in the living room, drinking wine. It looked like he had been there for a while, based on the level of wine in the previously full bottle.

Chris looked up and Claire saw that his eyes were red. Was he drunk?

She sat next to him and waited. Normally Chris would ask how her meeting went, and if Leon was happy to see her. Chris though, stayed silent.

Claire began to worry. Now that she saw him up close, she realized her brother looked more miserable than drunk, as if he had been crying all this time. _Don’t be absurd,_ she told herself. _Big, burly Chris? Crying?_

But the thought wouldn’t leave her alone. When the silence stretched for too long she leaned over and said, “Thank you for rescuing Leon, Chris. He looked so happy.”

Chris didn’t look at her. He kept staring at the half empty wine bottle like he was reading the label. Claire wasn’t about to let it go.

“He told me Simmons had caught him and Sherry only a day after we split. That means they both have been in his custody for over three months.”

“They’ll be all right,” Chris murmured, “Simmons can’t keep Sherry now that we have evidence of him…of me…doing those things.”

The way Chris’ voice shook at the end left no doubt in Claire’s mind that her brother was upset. Sliding closer and putting a hand on Chris’s shoulder, she asked. “What is it? What’s bothering you, Chris?”

Chris looked at her and Claire saw the tear tracks on his face, the moisture in his eyes. “Leon didn’t tell you?” he asked, almost accusatory, “He didn’t tell you how your brother raped him, after zapping him with a stun baton?”

“Chris!” Claire whispered. She wrapped her arms around him and was relieved when he leaned into her. The he began to sob.

“I’m a monster, Claire. You have no idea what I did to him. He was in his comfy clothes, reading a goddamned book in an armchair, and I jumped him, electrocuted him, then had my way with him on that bed.”

“Shh, shh,” Claire said, stroking her brother’s back. This was reminiscent of when Chris was a child, skinning his knee and coming to her crying. He sounded exactly like little Chris, except he also sounded ashamed and disgusted now, like he couldn’t bear to remember what he’d done.

“I know I did it to save him. I swear to God that was the only reason. Does it change anything, though? Does it make me a better person, getting him out of that man’s hand yet giving him a lifelong trauma? Isn’t that the definition of the end justifying the means?”

Claire put her hand under Chris’ chin and raised his face to her. She gave him a gentle kiss on the nose and said, “I don’t know, Chris. The only people who know are you, and him. Why don’t you give yourself some time, then go talk to Leon when you’re ready?”

Chris sat up. He turned away from her and buried his face in his hands. “I can’t. There is no way I could face him after what I did. He’d see me as a monster.”

Claire slid close again and put her arm around him. “No,” she said, “I just saw him. Chris. He’s ok. He’s free. You did that for him. It came at a cost, but both of you are big boys. You can work your way through this.”

Chris looked at her. His face was red and blotchy. He said, “Are you sure? You don’t think he would hate seeing me?”

“I don’t think so. If you’re worried I can visit him again, ask him how he feels. I’d know from his reaction if he’d want to meet with you or not, and we could go from there.”

Chris nodded and poured the rest of the wine in his glass. Before he could pick it up though, Claire snatched it from the table and said, “I think you’ve had enough alcohol for today. How about you go take a nap? Sleep all of this off.”

Chris made a grab for the glass but Claire held it out of his reach and then drank the wine. Chris pouted, which made him look even more like a child. Claire laughed and stood up, offering him a hand and saying, “Come on. I’ll tuck you in.”

Chris rolled his eyes, slapped her hand, and stood up. Claire’s laughter followed him on his way to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go. Phew, this was a journey. If you liked what you read, and want to let me know, please comment.


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